Tequila & Tuesdays
by silversurf4
Summary: Set in the aftermath of One - Dani unravels and Crews has to set some rules... COMPLETED 5 Aug 2011
1. Chapter 1 Tequila & Tuesdays

**Tequila and Tuesdays**

**Set: **Following the events in one – about two weeks after.

**Disclaimer:** Life and the characters from it are the intellectual property of Rand Ravich and Far Shariat. I'm just playing with them, since NBC is not using them (bastards).

* * *

"Where is she?" Tidwell asked as he stepped out of his car to meet Officer Bobby Stark curbside near a very low rent bar on the east side.

"She's at the end of the bar with some big mean looking dude in an Outlaws biker jacket, all tatted up….," Stark said tersely, nodding in the direction of Reese and the biker. Tidwell shot him a dark look but it wasn't Stark's fault.

Nonetheless the patrolman stammered on nervously, "Him… ah…he's all tatted up. I have no idea about Detective Reese." Tidwell shot him another stern look and Stark stared at his shoes. "But…she's uh….been in there awhile Captain. She's…uh."

"What Stark?" Tidwell asked irked.

"She's feeling no pain. She's really lit up," the patrolman finished almost apologetically. "Bartender's an old friend, he called said she looked as if she was looking for trouble. I think she found it."

Tidwell was beyond annoyed, beyond disappointed; he was heartbroken and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. Two weeks after Dani Reese escaped certain death at the hands of that brutal bastard Roman Nevikov, their relationship had simply fallen apart. She'd turned away and never looked back. He couldn't get two words with her to ask what he'd done or said. She was a stonewall repelling all comers, like a castle in the Crusades.

For reasons he couldn't understand she was also pissed off at the world in general again. She wavered between fierce defense of her now officially suspended partner and outright hostility towards him. Crews' Herculean efforts to win her freedom resulted in his prompt and immediate suspension until the department could construct the sequence of events and do away with him once and for all. Crews however, took it in stride.

"There are no accidents," he said cryptically and handed over his gun and badge, while Reese railed at the injustice. She was pissed at IAD for their treatment of her partner, pissed at him for not fighting the suspension harder and pissed at Tidwell it seemed for simply drawing breath. He couldn't seem to do any right in her eyes.

Even after she learned how hard he'd searched for her, she curtly responded, "I wouldn't have been there if someone hadn't thought it was a good idea for me to work at the FBI." She didn't need to explain. The FBI was a setup and she believed he knew it when he sent her there. She told IAD all the FBI ever asked her about was Crews. They could barely contain their pleasure, she stomped off and slammed doors and drawers accompanied by glares until he suggested she take a few days off.

Dani was returned to duty after a medical check gave her a clean bill of health and the department shrink rubber-stamped her clearance. _You could fill volumes with what that man did not know about Dani Reese, _Tidwell thought, but he could tell she was not ready to be back.

Even Tidwell could see the mutually classic passive aggressive behavior, but neither Crews nor Reese was telling him squat. Reese fought, Crews retired. Two sides of the same coin, darkness and light, ferocity and calm, yin and yang; _they were both friggin idiots who deserved each other_ he thought. But right now he focused on how to get his Detective out of the bar.

"Stay here," he told Stark. Stark needed no convincing. What was going to happen inside that bar needed as few witnesses as possible because if it went down like he suspected, Tidwell was going to drag Reese from the dark bar in handcuffs.

* * *

"Detective," Tidwell said loudly to Dani's back. The biker stood up and Tidwell flashed his shield. The biker to his credit eased back into his seat, nudged her shoulder and pointed behind her.

Dani studiously ignored both men and drank another shot of what looked like tequila. "Dani," Tidwell grabbed her shoulder and spun her to face him.

"Fuck off," she laughed, a sneer marring her pretty features.

"You need to leave this place now," he said in her ear, close. Too close.

"I'm off duty," she pushed him away.

"And still in the program," he reminded her. "I don't wanna take your shield Reese, but I will if you don't walk out of here right now."

"Here," she threw it at his chest, "take it. I don't want it anymore."

"Dani, be reasonable," he coaxed. Her eyes flared a fire that he remembered from another time, a warmer time when what she felt for him was passion, not enmity.

"I told you to get lost. Do us both a favor and get the fuck out of here. And take that little rat fuck snitch of yours Stark with you." Hatred shone in her eyes.

The biker shrugged and pulled on his longneck, wisely staying out of it.

"Fine," Tidwell pronounced now angry himself. He wasn't angry with her, he was angry at what he was going to have to do. "Do you want me to arrest you for public intoxication?"

"You do what you gotta do, Captain," she challenged, her chin tipped in the air like an invitation to fight. He shook his head, his long dirty blonde locks hanging in his eyes and turned on his heel and walked away. Her laughter reached him before he got to the door. It sounded shrill and unnatural. He pulled out his phone and made a call he didn't want to – to the one person who could get through to her – Crews.

* * *

"Crews," the tall, lean man pronounced crisply into his phone answered on the third ring, after he'd climbed from his patio meditation to find it in his hoodie pocket.

"Crews. It's Tidwell."

"Lemme guess, LAPD called to say they're sorry and I'm gonna be made 'Officer of the Month'," he said wryly, while wiping the sweat from his brow. Even this late at night the canyon was hot from the summer sun and the wildfires marking the landscape. Meditation was actually more physically demanding than people thought.

"'Fraid not," Tidwell had to admire the man's spunk. "I need your help. It's Reese."

"Where is she?" Crews was suddenly all business and moving from the sound of things. Tidwell heard a door shut and car spark to life.

"Bar on the lower Eastside called Shorty's. Know it?"

"Yeah, yeah I do," he said softly and with great sadness in his voice. He didn't have to tell Crews anything – the man knew. He knew Reese in ways Tidwell never could, like he wished he had. "You should leave," Crews told him.

"I'll just wait..."

"No," the suspended Detective interrupted, "you can go. I'll get her."

"She won't come out." Tidwell said what didn't need saying.

"Yes, she will," Charlie said.

"How do you know?" The Captain asked sounding small and unsure.

"Because I'm not leaving there without her," he said, abruptly ending the call without a hint of Zen in his voice.

* * *

Reese was somewhere between her fifth and tenth tequila, the room was pleasantly shimmering and she was about two shots away from passing out. She leaned into the sweaty biker, smelling leather and stale beer. She knew this man could punish her like she wanted. He would use her and ask no questions, want no numbers or names.

The biker once again stood up and looked beyond her. _Mother fuckin' Tidwell again, _she thought setting her jaw, determined on looking angry instead of just three sheets to the wind.

"You a cop too?" the burly biker asked with a sneer, underestimating the tall, thin man before him, like most people did.

"No," the soft voice responded from just behind Dani's ear. "I'm not a cop, I'm just here for what's mine," he told the biker. The stiff posture and direct eye contact told the biker this was not a man to be trifled with. As Crews' sultry voice reached her ears, Dani froze; a white-hot rush of panic pushed at the edges of her reality.

"And that would be?" the biker pushed.

"Her," Charlie said clearly.

Dani flushed and then paled. She wanted to whirl to face him, but knew it was beyond her ability to maneuver that effectively at this point. Instead she stood stock still like a deer caught in the high beams of an oncoming car. She could feel the crash coming before it actually happened. She reached for another shot – just one more and she'd fade into oblivion.

His hand slammed the glass back to the bar. "No," he said harshly in her ear. "Now, you and I are going to walk out of here…or I can carry you out. You decide. But either way you are coming with me."

His breath was hot in her ear. His hand burned down her wrist as she released the glass and he pulled her under his shoulder. Crews' dropped two crisp 100's on the bar and told the biker, "for watching out for her." The man nodded and kept the money, but let the girl go.

Crews steered her to the doorway, holding her upright when she stumbled. She wasn't embarrassed, she was enraged and when they got outside she was going to let him have it with both barrels, but they never made it that far. He beat her to the punch, pulling her against the long line of his body in an alcove leading to the bathrooms.

"You will not make a scene. You will do exactly as I say and we'll talk about this in the morning." He grabbed her chin, roughly forcing her to look into his eyes and he held them until she looked away in shame, bit her lip and nodded.

"Say the words, Dani," he commanded.

"Fine, I'll go with you," she angrily told him as her world got blurrier and those damned blue eyes of his bored into her. With Crews there, her safety was restored and no matter how angry she was at him, her body and mind relaxed instinctively, letting the liquor take hold. She sagged against him and her head dropped to his shoulder, "but this is not the end of this," she added presciently.

"Oh…not by a long shot," he promised into her hair, permitting himself a long drag of the air holding her in its embrace. It was a heady mixture of her shampoo, the tang of her sweat and that intangible essence of her that he missed every day like a junkie misses heroin. He permitted himself the confession because he knew it would not be remembered, "I missed you too." She nodded a weary reply against his shoulder.

He almost had to carry her to the car, where a very subdued Bobby Stark waited with the passenger door ajar. Charlie clapped a thank you on his old partner's shoulder and looked him in the eye. Nothing was said between the two men, there was nothing to say….

* * *

He did have to carry her to the house and then to the waiting bed. He stripped off her tiny, but tall boots and socks marveling for moments at the smallness of her feet and toenails painted a bright red. He pulled off his own t-shirt and then unbuttoned her blouse and removed it. He strove to focus on the task, instead of her soft hair at his neck as she lay against his shoulder. His hands trailed down her arms with feather light touch over the smooth skin there as slipped his t-shirt over her head and then gently reached under it to undo her bra and slip her arm through the loose armholes.

Lastly, he laid her on the bed and unzipped her pants and tugged them off by the legs. Naturally, she had to be wearing no underwear and he groaned in the agony of having something he wanted that close and yet, so very far away. He covered her with the duvet and grabbed a pillow and headed for a cold shower first, then the couch, far away from the object of his desires.

It was those desires, his and hers, that he gave voice to in the bar. Those were what she responded to instinctively. She came with him because she wanted to – but she was going to fight like hell when she came to. That was when the real battle would begin.

* * *

Dani Reese awoke to a grinding noise that sounded as if someone was cutting into her head with a buzz saw. She squinted awake and found herself in a large white room with a cathedral ceiling and floor to ceiling windows letting in the bright LA sunshine – which was effectively splitting her head in two like an axe through cord wood.

She pivoted up and away from the light and found herself staring at her clothes draped neatly over a chair. She was still unstable, but looking around for balance, clarity. Last night's mark, the biker, could not afford digs like these.

"So not biker guy's house…" she spoke to herself.

She looked down to find two aspirin, a glass of water and a note in her partner's scrawl. It read, "I'm making breakfast, come down when you're ready – but shower first." It was signed with a smiley face. Crews.

Then it rushed back to her in a series of flashes, snapshots in time complete with senses, smells, the scent of his cologne, the softness of his jersey hoodie. Crews' hard dark tone laying claim to her and his hands burning her everywhere he touched. Crews in a darkened alcove with her pulled tightly against him and every inch of his hard-on steel against her skin. What? His determined eyes and freckled face inches from hers promising this would continue, hiding a hint of a knowing smile. _What would continue?_

The stern look on his face in that bar and the scent of his aftershave as he held her close rushed back. It was so fresh, so real. She reached down and pulled the shirt to her nose – it smelled of him. _What the hell had happened?_ she wondered. _Did I just sleep with my partner?_ Then she shook her head. She would have, but Crews would never have taken advantage of her state. She knew him and Charlie Crews didn't work like that.

She showered and pulled on her jeans and a LAPD sweatshirt he'd left for her. She brushed her hair and retied it in a ponytail with the rubber band in her jacket pocket. Her clothes reeked of cigarette smoke and tequila. Crews had once again come to her rescue and she wasn't sure she could face him. She thought hard about just leaving, but had no idea where her car was.

The grinding noise, she'd realized was the juicer.

"Can you give it a rest?" she pointed at the juicer holding her head with one hand.

"Sure," he smiled a blinding row of white teeth. "Want some? Fresh squeezed?"

"Pass," she said in dour tone.

"Here," he slid the glass at her. "You need to rehydrate."

"Do you have to have fruit with every fucking meal?" she groused.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" he shot back.

She just fixed her most fearsome glare on him and it bounced off as he smiled softly.

"Hangover? Thought so. That look was pitiful. Hardly worthy of you," he chuckled.

"You gonna lecture me about drinking now?" she taunted.

"You weren't drinking," he chuckled. She looked at him flummoxed. "You were hiding."

"Hiding?" her voice raised until her own hangover tempered her reply. "From what?"

"Not from what. From who…or maybe it's whom, I forget. Never was much good at grammar." He smiled brightly and explained, "Me. You were hiding from me. A little from yourself, but mostly….from me."

She groaned. "Is this one of those Zen things? Why on earth would I hide from you? You're my goddamned partner…" her teeth snapped the words off like little twigs.

"No, not anymore. You know it and I know it." He let what he'd said sink in, then continued, "IAD has everything they want now, but then again so do I. The rest I can figure out on my own with the resources and information I have," he explained.

"So you're what? Leaving?" Her anger was palpable, but he saw it for what it was – fear – of abandonment, loss, betrayal – of trust, of faith. She knew but she didn't want to see.

"I'm leaving the department, Dani. Not you," he held her eyes with his oath.

"There is no you and me outside the department and that's just not going to work for me," she said again looking down.

His bare feet appeared beneath her and she looked up to finding him staring down at her. His blue eyes guileless and kind, "There's always been you and me. You just aren't seeing it. You look but you don't see."

His hand trailed down her cheek, whispering along her jaw line. Her eyes fluttered and she swore she heard a sigh, but knew it could not have come from her. He leaned close and as he said her name their lips brushed. She broke contact, looking down to find her red tipped toes perched atop his pale feet. She'd stepped closer to him, she realized. She couldn't remember when but there it was.

His arm wound slowly behind her back and pulled her gently against his chest. "Dani, look at me." She was helpless to disobey that tone. It was the one from the bar only less stern. It knew her; it owned her. He was what she wanted, what she'd been hiding from. Her mind worked through the simple things he'd said, sorting and discarding them.

_You can't sleep with you partner; and you definitely can't be in love with him. But if your partner, isn't your partner anymore and he's just this man that you trust more than you trust yourself who turns you on in ways that you thought were dead to you__ -then__ him - you could love him. _

"Crews," she breathed warning in her tone.

Uneasiness – they were breaking new ground with each passing second. He was not the man she knew anymore, he was so much more and yet nothing had changed, only her perception of it had.

"No, not Crews. I'm not your partner. Not anymore. Now, I'm just the man that loves you," he told her fearlessly. His honestly was shocking and it more than anything drew her eyes to his face; to read those eyes, to see him and to steal the smile from his parched lips. "Say my name, Dani."

She wavered for a fraction of a second before his name escaped her lips with a slight smile, "Charlie," she breathed. His lips descended and tasted like she knew he would – of fruit and freshness. He was an eager lover and their kiss, untainted by tequila, was long and deep. It was more a drug than any liquor. He settled his hands on her waist and lifted her onto the countertop and returned to wind his long fingers through her hair, which he'd magically released from its plastic prison.

"I love your hair," he murmured against her neck. Licking an earlobe he growled into her ear, when she rocked against him.

"Dani," he was breathless with need. He loved this difficult woman and wanted to show her in so very many ways. This was why he'd spent a sleepless night on his leather couch, sticky in the LA heat, instead of taking the easy path to her bed as many before had.

Her hands trailed down his back and slid into the waistband of his jeans to grasp the tops of his tight buttocks. They both groaned; then laughed in unison. He stepped back and she slid off the counter holding his hand.

"Did you still want breakfast?"

"Later," she drew him with her to the stairs where he stopped her.

"This changes everything." It was a statement of fact, not a question.

"You are my girl. No more nameless men in bars, no more crazy nights with bikers, just you in my bed from here on out."

"Until?" she questioned.

"Until the day that I die," he gave her his heart. Tears glistened in her eyes, he knew she didn't want to cry so he kissed her hungrily and when they parted the word "yes" escaped her lips. It was promise enough for him.

"What day is it?" She asked walking up the winding stairs to his bed – their bed.

"Tuesday," he replied. "Why?"

"I'd just like to know when it happened," she murmured against his chest as they climbed into the bed. He gave her a quizzical look. "The day I lost my mind and fell in love with you," she smiled. His shadow arrived a moment before the warmth of his body covered hers. It was the end of her darkness and the dawn of a new day.


	2. Chapter 2  Breakfast & Life

**Breakfast & Life**

Dani awoke late in the afternoon no longer hung over. This new drug, called promise, left her feeling satiated with no lingering effect beyond warmth. The length of Crews body was draped over, curved around and molded to her. It was the safest and most content she could recall feeling since she was a child and still believed in things. She stared out the window into the bright LA sunshine. The world seemed clear, clean and full of purpose and potential.

What a difference 24 hours could make? She knew the feeling couldn't last, but enjoyed the moment - until the Zen of her thought made her laugh.

Charlie lazily drew patterns on her bare arm with his lithe fingers and she felt the warmth of his lips as he touched them to her shoulder blade before he whispered in her ear, "don't laugh, I can do better." He wove his fingers along her ribcage and teased the sensitive skin there making her wriggle against him. He was toying with her and to Dani's great surprise for the first time since she was six she began to giggle.

"Hey, hey," he cautioned, "be quiet my girlfriend's hung over. She nearly shot my juicer this morning."

Dani stilled and turned to face him, as the reality of the night before came back to her. "I think I threw my badge at Tidwell last night." Her statement was matter of fact, then she qualified it, "at least I think I did." The look in her eye spoke of fear and uncertainty. "What do I do now?"

"I've been asking myself that all week," he rolled away from her and blew a deep breath to the ceiling.

"What did you come up with?"

"That it wasn't about me," he rolled to his side and stared intently at her. "That it as about us. This was always about us."

"Huh?" she didn't follow his thought, but chose to only chase half of it. "So you what? Knew I was going to do that?"

"No," he confessed, "not that, but something... I just didn't know what I was going to do about it. This will come as a surprise to you but some times I can be a little bit of a coward. I'm nothing but trouble Dani. I seem to attract it. Part of me wants to protect you from that, but the selfish part of me wants you close. I just didn't know what to do - until Tidwell called and said you were in trouble. Then I still didn't know what to do, but I knew I had to do something. Instinct takes over when it comes to you, I can't control it."

"I think we were both hiding from this," she admitted, clasping his hand and weaving their fingers together. "I missed you, every day I was at the FBI," she paused and looked at him hard. "But when you let them take your badge I was so angry that you didn't fight…"

"For the badge or for us?"

"Both," she broke eye contact. "I didn't want to need you like I did... like I do. I thought it made me weak."

"Hey," he offered gently kissing the tip of her nose. "You are the strongest person, toughest person I know. I just want you to let me help."

"You're the only one I'd let help me," she confessed, "the only one I ever accepted as an equal, a partner and when you left, I thought you walked away from that and it…."

"…hurt you?" He finished for her.

She nodded. "I'm sorry, honey. I never meant to hurt you. You know I'd never do that? Hurt you? Right?"

"I guess," she said and watched as he winced at her response. "Yes, I know that. But some times when I expect you to fight back and you don't."

"I won't fight to stay there. I realized it's not where I belong. I thought it was, but it's not. Not anymore."

"Do you know where you belong?" she inquired innocently.

"No, but this much I do know," he grinned, "wherever it is – it's with you. We have to figure this out together."

"Figure what out?"

"Life," he said clearly with bright eyes and a soft smile.

She looked at him prompting further explanation with her Dani Reese patented non-verbals. Demanding more from him without actually saying a word. It was classic behavior from her and one that he'd missed every day they'd been apart.

"What happened to me, also happened to you, but a lot younger," he explained, "whatever your father was wrapped up in effected you and later it affected me, not in the same way, but in the same way. Do you understand?"

"No," she confessed. "How do figure that having a crappy childhood with a distant, unavailable and sometimes mean father equates to what they – he - did to you?"

"Things that started before either of us were cops, hell when you were just a kid, warped our lives from what they should have been into something else. We can't go back there. I'm…I'm not even sure I'd want to. I like where we are now," he raised their conjoined hands and kissed hers, "but understanding how we got here might help both of us."

"So… you're saying? What?"

"We're good cops Dani, but every important thing I've done since getting out of prison - I've done outside the official system – from finding and arresting Kyle Hollis to getting you away from Roman. I don't think that justice or law is the goal of the LAPD. I'd like to try my hand at finding those truths," he offered gently, "and I'd like you to be my partner... in that...but only if that's where you want to be."

"You mean resign. Leave the Department and pursue justice on our own terms?" she reframed his proposition.

"I have the resources, the contacts – both inside and outside. Seever, Bobby, hell, even Tidwell would help us," he sweetened the pot. He watched her eyes narrow at the mention of their former boss. "They were very helpful, even to the point of endangering themselves when I was trying to get you back from Roman. I think we can count on them when we need something from inside the department."

She chewed on the inside of her cheek and he watched in fascination as her eyes dilated and shifted as she thought through the problem. He continued to lay the plan out for her, "I have other contacts inside the prison that will work better for me if I'm not carrying a badge anymore. And…money isn't a problem, so…"

He waited and she mulled. She kept him waiting while the gears spun in her brain. Charlie knew Reese and she was not a spur of the moment decision maker. She thought things through much more than he. Charlie reacted largely based on instinct. Reese only acted impulsively out of anger. She was no longer angry, not at him, not at herself, not at their situation. He clinically realized Reese could think about this proposition all day.

"Are you hungry?" he inquired changing tacks.

"Starving," she smiled happy for the diversion. "I thought you were making breakfast," she waved his note from the bedside table at him.

"Uh…yeah…well…I did." He guiltily replied.

"Juice? That's breakfast?" She scowled at him.

"We have cereal, but we're out of milk. But I know this place that makes the most amazing Belgian waffles and they serve breakfast all day," he grinned. "Would you like to go there?" She nodded.

"Would you like to go there - with me?" He kidded.

"You mean like a date?" she mocked him with a cheeky expression. He nodded, grinning.

She threw a pillow at him while rising and retreating to the bathroom, "Okay, but first I need a shower."

Charlie watched her saunter into his bathroom completely naked and then collapsed onto the bed his heart rate again soaring as the thought of Dani in the shower sent his mind into a tailspin. She did the most amazing things to him. Things that made him think there was a switch at the base of his neck that disconnected his brain and made him respond completely on impulse. He even felt back there to make certain there was no such lever.

"Crews," she barked.

He lifted his head to see her smile around the corner of the bath, " you need a shower too." He moved with a speed that showed his level of obvious interest.


	3. Chapter 3 Waffles & Buddhism

**Waffles & Buddism**

Charlie voraciously attacked his waffle which was smothered with strawberries and whipped cream as if he hadn't eaten in a week. Before him lay a glass of fresh squeezed OJ and another glass of apple juice because he couldn't decide which one he wanted more.

Dani sat across from him in a booth sipping coffee, slunk low like she was cold and hiding. She was thinking as evidenced by her furrowed brow and eyes focused far away from her plate of half-eaten waffles. Her feet were drawn up in front of her and she showed no sign of intent of finishing her meal. Charlie pushed his apple juice at her with the simple comment, "rehydrate," and returned to his meal.

He let her have the peace and quiet of the afternoon and the quiet little diner to consider his proposition. He knew what he was asking. He was proposing that she walk away from everything she worked for, strove to achieve, fought to earn and come with him somewhere new – somewhere unknown. It required a leap of faith and he just didn't know how strong her faith in him was – or her faith in herself.

Dani Reese was flipping the problem over in her head examining it like a puzzle from all angles. Charlie was conspicuously quiet. She knew he wanted to talk, wanted to ask, but he respected that she needed time to think and the luxury of introspection. She flashed back to the conversation during the polygraph at the FBI.

_Your father's name is Jack Reese?_ Yes.

_He was an LAPD cop?_ Yes.

_Is this why you became a cop?_ No. Yes…yes.

_To the best of your knowledge did your father ever break the law?_ To the best of my knowledge, no.

_We'll come back to this. _

But they never did. And she never did. Then Roman had her. Some times she was in the company of thugs, but hooded. All she could see were shadows; all she could smell was cigarette smoke, sweat and dogs. Then at times, she was all alone in the basement for hours on end. Alone in the dark, thinking of all the things she hadn't done, hadn't said. _It's never the things we do that we regret – it's the stuff we don't do that haunts us,_ she thought. _Was this another one of those things?_

She was contemplating making a leap that she might regret, but she'd regret more not doing it – not going along with Crews on his personal, now their personal investigation. _Was her father really dead like Roman said? _Crews would help her find out. LAPD never would. Even if here father were dead, even if they found his body and gave him funeral with full honors – no one would look for answers, not really. But the taut man, appearing to lounge in the booth across from her would. He would pursue it until he found the truth or it killed him; in that way tenacity was the vein of character that coursed through both tying them together.

All alone in the dark, in that basement, she didn't expect her father to come for her; she didn't expect LAPD to come for her; or even her lover Kevin Tidwell. She knew with a certainty she no longer thought possible – that Crews would come for her and he had. He had against all odds, with very little help and at great personal and professional risk. How could the tall, sometimes goofy red head be so damned central, vital and effective? And yet he was.

She who believed in nothing; not fairies, not Santa, not white knights or true love; believed in him. He moved without concern for himself, almost without thought and entirely on instinct. It made him nearly bulletproof, but some day his luck would fail him and not being there to save him from himself would haunt her forever.

She looked up at Crews and he smiled brightly and asked for her bacon. She pushed the plate at him and scowled.

"Reese, eat your waffle it's getting cold," he coaxed. "You can think later," he reasoned, "think all you want but eventually you have to decide. And… you have to eat - but do that now."

He pushed her plate back at her, pronouncing sadly, "Coffee is not a meal."

He was, of course, right, but she didn't like being told what to do – she never had.

She stared hard at him trying to decide if Crews was telling her what to do and whether or not to rebel. Her character traits were so deeply ingrained she rebelled more out of habit than purpose. But Charlie had returned to his own meal and left her alone to decide. Crews wasn't some nefarious actor intent on manipulating her – he was just Charlie. He was someone she trusted and someone she just might love if she let herself.

She straightened and cleared her throat, "I'd like to look for my father." Crews raised his eyebrows raised but he said nothing. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes, I heard you, honey. Now eat your breakfast," he smiled.

"So…are we going to do that?"

"Don't I always do what you say?" he teased.

"No. You almost never do what I say," a wry smile peaked from behind her entrenched frown, "Name one time you did what I told you to," she challenged.

Charlie cocked his head to the side and thought hard.

"Don't strain anything thinking cause I don't think it's ever actually happened," she taunted while picking up her fork and cutting into her meal. "And I didn't say you could take all my bacon," she said taking a crispy strip back from his plate.

He waited until she began eating again and the look on his face softened. She was leaning in his direction figuratively, but was a long way from committing. Dani Reese could not be forced into things. Not that he wanted anything forced from his tough little partner. From work to affection he wanted her where she was comfortable, where she wanted to be and Reese needed to be in control. He was asking her to give that away. _It was hard for her_ he reasoned.

He'd lost everything once and therefore knew how precarious the things we all think are stable really are. She was still learning this lesson. It is a hard lesson and a painful one. First we learn it from people who disappoint us, then friends who betray us, then from systems and institutions that fail us. Charlie realized it is only then that people get what the Buddha said, "Be a light unto yourself."

They climbed into the Maserati and he asked if she'd like to go get her car. Dani sighed in resignation about events she'd rather forget, "or I can have someone get it for you," he offered. "We don't have to talk about it again or think about it again."

She nodded and he stepped out made a quick phone call and when he returned she was staring at him quizzically.

"What?" he wondered and marveled at the expressions she could summon from disdain to disappointment. When her guard was down, she was so wonderfully easy to read. He loved just watching her in unguarded moments.

"I want to find my father because Roman said he was dead. But you? You want to find him for another reason don't you? That was why you were so quick to agree to that - isn't it?" She was uncertain and still tensely sensing her way through things.

His sigh was a heavy dark color filling the car. "Do you trust me?"

"What the hell difference does that…." she barked headed toward anger.

"It makes a big difference," he interrupted. "If you trust me, then you believe me when I say that I would never hurt you. If you don't…. then you don't," he finished sounding disappointed.

She threw herself back into the seat and exhaled loudly. "I trust you…" she admitted grudgingly.

"But you have a hard time trusting yourself…

"Yes," she said tightly, glad he understood her qualms.

"…so you don't know if you should trust in your trust in me, right?"

She bit her lip and nodded, risking a look at him. His blue eyes shone clearly and his pale features weakened her anger transporting it away magically like dew before the morning sun.

"There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to the truth; not going all the way and not starting," he recited the words he knew by heart.

"Lemme guess? Buddha?" she wryly questioned, a twist of a smile reemerging.

"Yep," he sparked the engine to life, "I haven't gone far enough yet..." he began.

"And I haven't started…" she finished. There was a long silence as they each considered where they were and where they were headed next before she said the words that made him know it would all work out. "I do trust you Crews."

There would be bumps, disagreements and fights, but he'd long ago decided that she was among the handful of people he'd bet his life on. He reached for her hand and held it all the way home. "We'll be okay then, Reese. We'll get there. The Buddha also said "the journey is the destination."

She played with his Zen and it amused her to no end, "Did he say if the destination had a bathroom?" Charlie just smiled and pulled over at the next gas station.


	4. Chapter 4 Emblems & Partners

**Emblems & Partners**

She didn't give Charlie an answer. Instead she returned to work alone to deal with the fallout of throwing her badge at Tidwell and drinking mightily while in the program. It was the second part that bothered Charlie. LAPD would take her back – she was a great cop, but the program failure undermined their trust in her. Who knew how much Tidwell shared and with whom?

But Dani was fiercely independent and he knew space and freedom were prerequisites for her so Charlie dropped her at her place with a slow, sweet kiss to remember him by and drove home alone. He would meditate and wait for Reese, but not without lingering concerns.

Dani puttered around her house for several hours before calling her mother and their conversation, which started with light hearted and simple catching up quickly became serious. Although Dani talked frankly with her mother about what Roman claimed to have done to Jack Reese shortly after they released her from the hospital. Neither woman was willing to accept the tough old Irishman's death without a body. Now Dani was telling her mother that she was considering looking for him and Roya Reese knew her daughter's search would take her to dark places, dangerous places.

"The Department would be okay with you looking into your own father's disappearance?" Roya asked.

"I wouldn't actually be with the Department," Dani cringed as she said the words.

Stone silence returned down the phone line, her mother expected more and Dani knew it. She had the same way of demanding more with a simple look or in this case with her absolute silence.

"I'd be with Crews," she offered. She could envision the stern look on her mother's face that preceded the sigh she heard come down the phone line like a fell wind.

"Your father hates that man," Roya stated the obvious to her daughter.

"Yeah, well I don't," Dani spoke sharply to her mother. Then she relented as she heard the slight sniff that spoke of tears from her mother. "Look, Crews is tough. He's smart and I trust him. LAPD is not interested in finding him, mom. Crews and I are."

"I see you have already decided," her mother became curt and was obviously angry, a potent combination of fear for and disappointment in her headstrong daughter. "Dani, if you choose this man over your career – he must be more than just someone you work with…" she fished for more from her reticent only child.

"He is…" was all Dani would say, "I gotta go mom," she said softly ending the call.

She put on her pistol and magazine holder with the space where her badge should be empty at her waist. She examined herself in the mirror.

"Dani what are you doing?" she asked her reflection. She closed her eyes, exhaled and rotated her shoulders to expel the tenseness she felt and she heard Crews' voice in her head. _Teachers open the door – you enter by yourself. _The Buddha was right, no one but her could do this.

* * *

She walked stiffly to the elevators from the cool of the parking garage convinced every officer she passed noticed the absence of her badge on her belt. She realized in the elevator that she was holding her breath. She flexed and released her hands, wishing for Crews' stability and strength beside her but knowing this was a journey she had to make alone.

She approached the steel and glass office holding her Captain behind a layer of drawn white shades. She knocked on the open door frame and he looked up. His face held a mixture of joy and trepidation. He looked as if he might be ill.

"Dan… Detective Reese," he stammered rising.

"Could I have a word Captain?" she asked formally.

"Sure. Come in sit down," he offered.

"I…uh...I think I'd rather stand," she said stronger than she felt.

"Okay," he eased back into his seat. He opened a drawer and produced her shield. "I think you'll be wanting this back," he held the shiny silver badge out to her.

Dani reached for it and took the object of many years' desires into her hands. It felt cold to her. It had never felt that way before. She flashed to Crews' shield lying in the dirt along the roadside as Roman's men divested him of anything that signaled his position with LAPD. Now IAD had his badge.

"Wasn't sure I was getting this back…" she wondered aloud. He nodded speechless for the moment, and then she added something telling, "not sure I want it back."

"Dani," he began his voice with thick with emotion, "if you need some time…"

"I don't," she started and he exhaled a big sigh of relief a little too soon.

"That's great cause we caught a double homicide last night and I could really use you. We can partner you with Jakes or you can take a rookie," he offered.

"I have a partner," she dug in her heels and her scowl returned. This Dani Reese he knew – fiercely defiant, stubborn and angry.

"Dani be reasonable. Crews is suspended. He worked with Seever and Stark when you were…out," he avoided reference to the FBI, which he knew she strongly believed had been nothing but a set up.

"I have a partner," she said her tone more solid. She was angry, she was certain, sure and she stepped toward his desk. "Keep this," she placed the badge on his desk. "Unless and until my partner comes back, then neither do I," she was defiant and beautifully lit by a fire within. She was made of steel and iron. She smiled at him for the first time in two weeks, turned her heel and left.

Two minutes after she left, Tidwell's phone rang and he distractedly answered it, "Yeah, Homicide Tidwell." The voice on the other end said "hold for the Deputy Commissioner" before leaving him alone in his office with Dani Reese's badge sitting in the middle of his desk. He carefully put it in his drawer hoping she'd changed her mind, but knowing it was more likely LA would freeze over.

* * *

**Pizza & Professions **

Several hours later, Charlie was attempting seated mediation when his cell rang again, jarring him for the tranquility and balance he'd achieved. He realized that he brought the phone to the patio because of his inability to "let go" of being connected to Reese. He did not want to be unavailable if she needed him, but as he flipped the phone open he recognized his desire to control events was something he needed to release – it was illusory – but knowing and doing are two entirely different things.

"Crews," he said tightly.

"It's Tidwell," the tense voice on the other end began. Charlie said nothing knowing Reese was in better place than when last he and the Captain spoke. He was no longer worried about her – he never worried about himself.

"What'd you do to my Detective Crews?" Tidwell was miffed. Charlie could hear the rancor in his voice.

_Take a deep breath – it calms the mind,_ Charlie thought. _At least he didn't ask what you do to my girlfriend_ Charlie reasoned knowing that he would not have reacted well to that characterization. Both men knew that Dani Reese was no longer with Kevin Tidwell in any meaningful way. What Tidwell did not know, could not know was how tantalizingly close she was to being Charlie's and she was not something he was ever letting go of – Zen be damned.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked cautiously.

"She just came in here and quit. At least I think she quit - cause I gave her shield back and she wouldn't take it. Said she wasn't coming back – and I quote - unless or until you did." His commentary was an accusation.

"Huh," Charlie grunted an acknowledgement he'd heard the man, but offering nothing informative in response.

"What the fuck did you say to her? What did you do to her?"

"People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer a suffering that is familiar," Charlie's Zen musing answered the other man's contempt.

"I don't even know what that means," Tidwell admitted with a heavy sigh.

"It means Reese no longer fears the unknown," Charlie said quietly. "Her choices are her own."

"I don't like the idea of her being out there alone," Tidwell gave voice to his fears.

"She isn't alone," Charlie staked his claim to his tempestuous young partner.

"So that's how it is?"

"We are connected. We always have been. Dani sees that now," Charlie softly told his rival that her connection to him was beyond the physical.

"I care about her Crews," Tidwell metaphorically stuck his chin out waiting for Crews to hit him. "I don't want to see her get hurt. Tell me you'll keep her safe. Tell me you know how this ends."

"Who can say how things will end? Perhaps there is no end."

Tidwell growled down the line, "Crews."

"She's safe with me. I will always keep her safe. The only time she isn't is when we aren't together," his intimation was clear. _You split us up, she got taken, she got hurt and I'm not going to let that happen again._ There was no goodbye Tidwell simply hung up.

* * *

Dani went home but without a "day job" it became a bit mundane inside her apartment, the place seemed small and confining. She wanted to call Crews, but was unsure and did not want to appear needy. Instead, she settled for cleaning her apartment until a reasonable number of hours passed – or he called her, but then she realized Charlie very seldom did that – called her.

Hours passed as she did laundry, dusted, vacuumed and gave her kitchen and bathroom floors the attention they thoroughly deserved but that she seldom had the time and luxury for. By the time she finished it was 7PM and still no call from Crews. She felt like she'd accomplished a lot of busy work, but was no closer to what she was going to do. She was still sitting on her couch in sweats with her hair up fingering the speed dial number for him, when there was a knock on her door.

She tiptoed to the peephole and looked outside. What she saw there made her smile; it was Charlie with a pizza. She opened the door and arched her eyebrows at him quizzically.

"I think I've been very patient and yes, this is a transparent excuse to be here, but you gotta eat right?" he questioned a bit unsure whether he was crowding her.

Her broad smile let him know it was not a mistake.

"I wanted to give you time, but all day I just tinkered and wondered so I caved and just… Wow, this place is clean. It even smells clean," his nose distracted him.

Again Dani's eyebrows registered a slight quirk prompting more from him, "not that it wasn't clean before, but it's…." he let out a low whistle implying his fascination with the energy she'd put into her afternoon, "Are you…uh… gonna talk to me?" he wondered if his appearance was too much, too soon.

"This…" she gestured to the room behind her, "was to take my mind off the fact that I am currently unemployed," she admitted.

"Yeah, I know," he said softly.

"You know?"

"Tidwell," he explained.

She gave him an odd look and a slight smile before a mischievous look crossed her face. "How come you're not saying all this to me in Dutch?"

He looked flummoxed.

"Last Christmas, you went on and on about how you could learn Dutch in four days. You've had two weeks. So…." She teased.

Charlie's smile reached the megawatt range when he realized she was joking with him. "Hungry?" he waved the pizza box.

"Yeah, I could eat," she smiled at him, turned and walked into her kitchen, "Did you want a plate?"

Charlie was caught flat- footed, the box already open and a slice in hand, "uh, sure…I'm not a messy eater, but I'd rather not take the chance of you shooting me for messing up your clean house." Dani rolled her eyes and handed him a plate.

They ate in companionable silence, the issue between them tabled for the moment.

When the pizza was done, Charlie reclined and asked what'd he wanted to all day, "so I guess you've decided to come with me on this adventure?" She nodded.

"People are going to think you need your head examined you know," he teased.

"People? What people? I think I need to have my head examined, but I didn't make this decision with my head, I listened to my instincts, followed my gut and…"she made him wait for it, "my heart." His soft smile was worth the wait. It was lopsided and goofy, the type she liked the best from him – genuine.

Charlie walked the pizza box to the dumpster outside and returned to wash his hands, drying them on his jeans. "I guess I should be going then," he said awkwardly.

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah, well I didn't want to assume anything…" he trailed off at the stern look on her face, "So, it's okay if I sleep over then?"

She rolled her eyes and retreated into the bedroom.

He followed her and watched as she brushed her teeth, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. She left the bathroom to find him staring at her and a bit off balance.

"Crews," she demanded with her hands on her hips, "we aren't seven and I'm not going to pitch you a tent." He sighed his relief and took off his shirt.

"I don't want you to think that you have to… you know," he was sweet and entirely out of his element. It was like being out of the mansion and in her bedroom had some potent debilitating effect on him. Gone was the confidant self assured man from the other night, he was just Charlie, not some superhero.

She climbed into bed and rested on her elbows as she watched him take off his jeans.

He climbed into bed beside her and cautiously gathered her to his chest as if she night break. He cradled her gently and whispered into her hair, "It doesn't always have to be about fire and passion, sometimes it can be about comfort and safety. How about we just sleep tonight? Would that be okay? Would you like that?"

She nodded against his chest. She didn't tell him that she didn't let men sleep at her house; that in all the months she'd dated Tidwell he'd never once slept in her bed. Dani's bed was sacrosanct and it spoke volumes that she let Crews in it – but no one knew it but her.

He turned her on, but tonight they both had a lot on their minds. Charlie got that intuitively, he didn't push, he didn't even try anything. He just settled for just being there – it was enough for him. It was enough for them both.

* * *

Dani awoke and the sun was high in the sky, she knew it was late and she didn't sleep late. The warm feeling of Charlie Crews wrapped around and draped over her accounted for her feeling of security, but his gentle breathing also let her know he was not asleep. He sighed when her eyes fluttered open and his clear blue eyes stared down at her. She noticed for the first time the tiny crinkles in the corners of his eyes when his smile was not forced. It made her blush that he could be so real and relaxed with her. True to his word, Crews tried nothing, although during the night she recalled planting a kiss on his collarbone that made him tense with excitement, before drifting back to sleep.

"Hi," his voice murmured lightly as his lips brushed her temple. His closeness, the scent of him and the low timbre of his voice did things to her that made her want to groan. _How could he incite those feelings with a single word and the brush of his lips along her face_? She buried her face in his chest and smiled against his skin.

Charlie's sigh was one of complete contentment. "What did you want to do today?" he asked while stroking her back and running his finger through her hair.

"I guess find a job," she returned them to reality.

"Or you could clean my house," he kidded.

When her head snapped up, he kissed her quickly, drawing the breath from her lips. He enveloped her in his embrace and his hand lit little fires across her skin. They rapidly began hurtling toward a heated encounter, as she fought to get closer to a man already intertwined with her intimately. He growled his frustration and pushed her onto her back.

"Take these off," he demanded, frustrated by clothing between her and his bare skin.

The layers of sensitive, caring, sweet Charlie melted away as he was replaced with the demanding, insistent, impatient, completely un-Zen man striping her clothes off. She laughed at his torment. "I fail to see what's funny about this," he talked into the hollow of her throat as he struggled to disrobe her.

"You," she expressed delicious amusement, "where's your Zen now, Tiger?"

"You rob me of it," he was breathless as her shirt finally came over her head. He was excited and it was glorious the way his hair was tousled and face flushed. Every freckle seemed to stand out in the sunlight and she raked her hands up his bare sides as he voraciously attacked her neck.

"Hey stop that," she chided. He lifted his head, his eyes soft and questioning found hers seeking the cause of her dismay. "You'll leave hickeys," she grumbled but smiled underneath her rebuke. He arched his brows and with a wicked grin returned to manifesting signs and emblems of his passion on her body.

She sighed knowing he was going to leave hickeys and she found she just didn't care. She briefly considered the idea she'd traded her silver Detective's shield for one built of Charlie's Zen – but tossed the comparison aside because even when Charlie's shield was cracked or absent - he protected her, warmed her and LAPD never had.


	5. Chapter 5 Dreams & Wishes

**Dreams & Wishes**

In her dreams, he always came for her.

No matter the setting, the lighting, the mark, or the drink, he was always there to save her – from her own poor choices. This time was no different.

She was in dark bar with neon signs, a haze of cigarette smoke hung in the air above her head, and bottles of brightly colored poisons lined the shelves in front of the mirror where she watched herself. The sound of billiard balls cracking their way along a red felt table was detectable above the pulsating music blasting through the speakers. The song was hard to name but it one she knew, something low and dangerous like Everlast's 'Die in Yer Arms' It suffused the air with rhythm as she twisted, shimmied and ground against some nameless faceless body - her tool for the night.

Said tool on this night was Italian, like Crews' car (humorously enough), with jet-black hair and broad shoulders. He wore a ridiculous amount of jewelry for a man, but that didn't matter, only the hate buried in the beady brown eyes did. This man didn't like women; he was probably cuckolded at home by a wife or mother (maybe both). He was looking for someone to punish for his own cowardice and he would use her mercilessly, wanting neither her name nor number. There would be no pleasantries exchanged; it wasn't a date, it was just sex. She was his tool, just as he was hers.

She hoped she was dreaming but it seemed too real, too familiar, and all too common. It was so entirely predictable that she wanted it over more than she wanted the release of the cheap, meaningless sex. She wanted to wake up alone in her own bed knowing it had been a dream or that Crews had appeared as if summoned from thin air to wrest her away from her mark, her tool.

In her dreams, Crews was lightning fast, appearing out of nowhere. He was vicious with her fuck of the week, asserting his dominance in an unbending tone and claiming her as his own. It was something she subconsciously craved, belonging to someone like Crews, but he was always gentle and tender with her. Crews was strong, steady and patient as she resisted knowing she would submit – that she wanted to submit - to him. She moaned knowing it was just a stupid fantasy, a dream, but she swore she could feel the feather light touches of Crews' long lean pale fingers along her jaw line and cheek as he stroked a stray lock of hair from her face.

She released an audible groan as she blinked awake knowing her dream would vanish as she woke. She was already dreading the hangover to come, but it was the cost of her punishment, the cost of her weakness. Her eyes let in a beam of light and it was strong, but her head did not immediately split in two. A shadow crossed her face and lightly lips touched on hers and drew back. Crews came into focus and her sharp intake of air showed her surprise as his blue eyes smiled and his head cocked at an odd angle.

He seemed perplexed, "are you okay?" he wondered aloud. "I brushed and everything," he teased, breathing into his hand. He was real, he was there and it wasn't a dream.

She scrambled for dots connecting things and the day before came back. It existed in her dreams for far longer than reality so she had trouble reconciling the fact he was there - she was his and that she was safe now and would be from here on.

"I…I thought I was…" she stammered and blushed.

"Dreaming?" he touched her lightly in places that shouldn't provoke the tingling sensation she felt, but he lit tiny fires all over her with his strokes and caresses.

She nodded unable to respond.

He leaned in and kissed her again. This kiss was a long, slow, deep, wet kiss full of longing. He restrained himself from taking for granted she wanted anything more. But she did.

"Do you dream about me Dani?" his voice strewn with gravel from sleep chaffed against her ear. Again she nodded incapable of speech.

"I dream about you, you know?" he confessed. "I dream about me touching you, about me kissing you, about me never letting go of you," he vowed and divulged his deepest desires. He placed his hands on either side of her face and waited until her eyes opened. "I love you," he said solemnly. "I always will."

He waited patiently for her to form the words. They came slowly for her as they always did, "I have been locked in a cycle – a pattern - for so long that it will take me awhile to realize that I'm here and it is now. Be patient with me?"

"It's always now," Charlie replied with Zen, "and you are always here." Normally, this would have annoyed her, but this time and place she found it comforting and a bit humorous. She smiled at him. "I'm a patient man," he whispered along her temple. "We go only where you want, only when you are ready," he vowed.

"But?" she queried.

"I was kinda hoping you'd sleep at my place…with me…for now," he ventured, pausing for reaction and continuing when she said nothing. "I really enjoy holding onto you while we sleep," he confided softly as if it were something he was guilty of. "I like having you close, knowing you're safe," he continued bordering on one of his rambling discourses.

She silenced him with her fingers over his lips and a nod of her head, indicating her assent. Then she gently replaced her fingers with her lips and sweetly kissed his lower lip lightly. "I like it too, Charlie." She was still trying on his given name and it sounded odd coming off her lips. In her brain, he was still Crews, but in her heart he was Charlie – they were distinct and different in her mind.

"What?" he questioned sensing her quandary.

"Charlie sounds a little weird to me…coming from me," she offered.

He sighed and held her close. "You'll get used to it," he promised, "I hope you'll get used to it," he spoke as an internal aside, as was his fashion, she'd learned. It was part of his process, that she'd become attuned to and comfortable with. "You can call me anything you want," he offered. "Just stay with me," he asked.

"I wish I was better at this," Dani admitted softly.

"Everything you do is good. Anything you do is the right thing," he said patiently.

She'd never had anyone support any decision she made, any choice she made. It was freeing – it gave her the power to succeed instead of remaining locked in self-fulfilling failure. "What do you wish for Charlie?"

"Just this. You here, safe." He said succinctly.

"That's it?"

"…and maybe that you'll stay that way - that you'll stay with me," he dared.

"I've never been good at long term stuff," she admitted. "It might not work," she gave voice to her fears. "Other people can be friends with ex's – I can't," she explained. "I don't want to lose the only person I trust….for sex."

"Even if it's really good sex," he questioned injecting levity into a very serious matter. She smiled and nodded solemnly.

"Did you ever think maybe you just weren't with the right man?" he cautiously approached his target. "That you hadn't met the man who could handle you yet," he ventured towards the edge.

"You think handle me, Crews?"

He noticed the pitch of the voice change and her eyebrows raised in inquiry. She was moments from ire at his audacity. He tread lightly, "I think you were with boys who didn't know what you needed. Men who wanted to control you, but no one who let you be you and accepted that sometimes means losing their control. I'm not those men, Dani. Be who you are. Independent, fierce, mercurial - I'll still love you – even if we disagree, even if you never let me drive, even if you sometimes need your space. I understand."

Her look spoke of a question she would not give voice to – so he kissed her gently.

"All I'm asking is that we be partners. You can be my partner can't you?"

"Crews we've been partners for years now," she objected.

"Exactly, only now we get to sleep together," he tempted. "We don't have to, but I want to. I know some nights you'll want to be alone," he softened his demand.

She wriggled away and sat up. She looked out the window and the moment stretched agonizingly.

"That's just it," she said succinctly, "I don't think I want to," she confessed vaguely leaving him wondering. His face showed his confusion. "I don't think I want to be alone. I think… I want to be with you. And that's not something I'm prepared for," she explained.

"So….." he questioned and then provided the answer, "we'll take it one day at a time," he used the familiar coping term from AA. "Just let life happen and we'll deal with things as they come along," he offered.

"Live in the moment?" she queried parroting his Zen back at him.

"Exactly," he readily agreed.

"How in the world did you convert me?" she wondered smiling.

"I didn't," he admitted. "You got here on your own. But…I could gladly live in this moment - with you for the rest of our lives," he swore his allegiance and promised her his heart.

"And you're gonna help me find my dad?" she pushed.

"Uh, huh," he played with her hair and then sat up. "Let's start now," he smiled brightly, "but first I need a shower," he stated the obvious as he sashayed naked into her bathroom.

She groaned at his joke and the image of his long pale naked backside retreating into her bathroom. Then he leaned back into the bedroom, hanging in the doorframe and cast a longing glance her way.

"Say…did any of your dreams include showers?" he teased before waggling his eyebrows at her. She threw a pillow at him and waited until the water was hot, the room steamy and Crews humming under the spray before joining him there and wrapping her arms around his narrow waist and laying her cheek against his shoulder blade. If she surprised him, he showed no sign of it, as he slowly turned and wrapped her in his embrace.


	6. Chapter 6  Beginnings & Endings

**Beginnings & Endings**

"Where do we start?" she inquired.

"At the end," he quipped smiling ruefully at her. She glared her displeasure, but they were past the days when that worked on him.

He smiled cheerfully in response and she waited for him to fill the empty space between them. She knew he wanted to but he'd never considered the path when he'd invited her along. Perhaps because he didn't think she'd take it with him.

Charlie was lost in his own thoughts. This would not be simple. It would require him to take her fully into his confidence. She would know things even Ted did not. She was now a willing co-conspirator in an adventure that could land them both in prison or in the county morgue – her father's words echoed back to him.

_You would do well to keep my daughter out of this_, Jack Reese had warned him.

But he didn't – and she didn't. Now here they were neck deep in it – together. If they did find Jack Reese, he might just kill Charlie with his bare hands because here she stood poised become his conscience and confidant and she was eager to begin. He realized the trepidation was now all his. She was non-committal, but once Dani Reese decided to commit to something or someone - there was no turning back, no half stepping, she was all in. Her annoyance showed plainly on her face, prompting further explanation.

"When I brought Kyle Hollis in there were two men after me," he explained. "I thought they were cops," he began to unravel his tale.

"But they weren't cops," she finished for him.

"No, definitely not cops. But I think they are where we start," he concluded.

"Okay, let's go talk to them," she grabbed his keys.

He arrested here movement with a strong arm on her bicep. "We can't talk to them. They're dead."

"How?"

He swallowed hard, "I...uh...killed them."

"Why?" she was obviously not impressed that he'd killed their only real lead.

"Hey, they tried to kill me first," he defended stubbornly. She glared at him prompting further explanation or excuses to dribble from his lips. Whether he was simply informing or defending varied depending on which angle you took, Charlie preferred to view it as a color commentary, which he undertook with relish.

"I was driving along with Hollis talking to your dad on the phone. I warned him that I was closing in that it was maybe his last day as a free man. When I think they hit the car with an SUV, flipped us over. All I remember was waking up upside down belted in the car. Luckily Hollis was in the trunk," Charlie added his internal commentary in that distinctly lower tone of his. "I shot them, but before I shot them I saw them in the park with your father – the day I took those pictures of him arguing with Ames."

She shook her head, "Hollis was in the trunk?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "He was annoying me and I needed to think," he explained.

"These men knew my father? Maybe worked with him?" she posited.

"Or for them?" his theory was darker.

"You think he's in charge of this," she wondered.

"Or at least he knows a lot about it," he said plainly. It was painful honestly, but she bore it well. She knew her father was no saint and to be wrapped up with the likes of Roman Nevikov and Mickey Rayborn he had some serious explaining to do – if they ever found him.

"So you think that they are all connected?" she stated the obvious as a question.

"Isn't it?"

"How could it not be?" She continued his line of introspection and took it a step further. "Who were they?"

He shrugged. "I never got a chance to explore that. A lot of things kept happening, work and then you left and then I got stuck working with Bobby and Seever. Then I found out Roman had you..." he sputtered to a stop and held her eyes, "that was all I could think about until I had you back."

She acknowledged his commitment and the terrible chances he took when it came to her silently and then changed the subject back to the work at hand. "So you shot two men dead in the street and just left them there and no one came and asked you about it?" She was incredulous that he was able to escape undetected.

"I think I had help," he offered. "Not to help me, but I think those men weren't found or weren't explored for a reason," he explained the tentacles of the conspiracy that threaded dangerous paths through the Department.

"But the ME would have gotten them – it's protocol," she asserted. "Every homicide we know about goes to the ME. Even if LAPD buried it, the Medical Examiner would have a record."

"Yeah," he said softly. "And I know someone there that owes me a favor," he continued.

"Would this someone be a woman?" Green tinged the air around her comment.

"Uh, yeah," he grimaced, "but it's not what you think."

Dani's brows shot north. "Why is it everyone that owes you a favor is a woman?"

"She's pregnant," he defended quickly, "and not by me," he qualified backpedalling. "I met her working a case with Seever. And she's not my type," he stubbornly asserting.

"From what I hear you don't have a type, Crews," she said eyes glittering.

"Actually I do," he smiled.

She inclined her head in a silent query.

He leaned close and whispered, "My type is very specific," he murmured into her ear, "its just you."


	7. Chapter 7 Nothing & Something

**Nothing & Something**

"Yeah? A little girl…well, that's terrific doc," Charlie chatted amiably into the phone while Dani tapped her foot in annoyance.

"Glad to hear you kept your job, too. Yeah, well like I said we were investigating a murder not all that other stuff. Listen, doc…I need a favor. Could I come by and pick your brain about some cold cases from last year? Great."

He covered the phone and stated the obvious to his annoyed partner, "she said yes."

"I know, Crews," Dani feigned annoyance but really just wanted to see this woman in the flesh, size her up and get the information they needed.

He snapped the phone shut mumbling the meeting time and smiled brightly, "see how easy that was?"

Dani scowled. "You didn't tell her you were bringing your partner," she noted in a somewhat pinched tone.

"What's your point?" he was flummoxed.

She sighed exasperated at him once again and stomped off. It took him a moment to catch her she walked away in such a hurry.

"You don't honestly think I made time with all these women I'm rumored to have been with do you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she denied and kept walking.

He caught her by the elbow. "Oh, no. If we're going engage in dangerous acts together, break the law and possibly run up against a conspiracy within the second largest police department in the world, I'm not fighting you, too."

They locked eyes and a little battle began. Her supremacy was no longer the rule of law. Things were changing. For now Charlie was in charge and his steely-eyed look and cocksure stance said so. She'd never seen this side of him before. His confidence and directness was a heady mix – she blinked first. When she broke eye contact and looked away, he stepped close, leaning close so his breath tickled her ear and whispered, "I love you now and I will love you – and only you – forever. That's how I work. Get it?"

She nodded mutely.

He looked up and faraway. "We done here?" he asked to ensure the subject of jealousy was closed and nailed shut. Again she nodded, an embarrassed crimson crept up her throat. That he could not have, Dani feeling she had something to feel guilty about, he gently dragged his knuckles down her bare cheek and waited for her to recover. When her breathing settled he nudged her chin up and again their eyes met, but this time there was no battle, just solace and peace. "We good?" he asked more softly.

"Yes," her answer was a whisper.

He brushed her lips lightly and teased, "good. For a minute there I thought I was going to have to kiss some sense into you. Not that I wouldn't enjoy that, but the things I want to do to you require more privacy than we've got right now."

A tiny smile quirked the corners of her mouth as she fought the impulse to break into a wide grin at him being Charlie. His sly smile coupled with his seductive tone were incongruent with his levity. "You're not as funny as you think you know?" she advised him. "And the day you can kiss sense into someone - I'm changing lines of work," her sauciness returned.

"You are a very good kisser," he tested the waters with a chaste press of his lips to hers. Was the fence mended? He needed to know before they moved forward from this moment.

"No," she objected seizing him by the tie and dragging him down to her eager mouth. "I am an exceptional kisser," she smiled like the Cheshire cat as his hands gravitated automatically to her hips and his fingers dug in there. "You really wanna test that theory?"

"Definitely," he gave as good as he got, crushing her body against his. Their lips locked and tongues dueled as they consumed all the air in a three-block radius. They burned hot and hard edging toward out of control, but reluctantly disengaged as a carload of teenagers drove by hooting and shouting, "get a room."

"Finish this later?" he inquired in a husky breathless voice.

She nodded adding presciently, "but I don't think this will ever really be finished."

"I hope not," he replied grasping her hand. Again their eyes connected and a conversation occurred there without words, before he tugged on their joined hands, "Come on. We've got work to do."

* * *

They were standing at a taco cart on the busy street outside the ME's office. Dani was pouring over two anorexic autopsy reports in a plain manila folder, while her tall shadow choked down a taco wrapped in waxy paper.

"See, I told you…" he started between bites, "totally not my type," he continued wrestling with the taco.

The look she gave him was dour and disappointed that he'd revisit the topic.

"Drop it?" he watched her reaction, which was neutral. "Okay, I'll just drop it," he said meekly.

She returned to reading without any commentary on the ME. "This is crap. There's nothing here." Her look said, _don't pull any of your Zen anecdotes on me_, but she felt strongly enough about it that she verbalized it too, "and yes, I know there can't be nothing."

"You're learning grasshopper," he joked.

"Watch your tie," she warned expertly dragging it clear of a glob of greasy meat. He smiled appreciatively. "Relax it's not for you - it's for the silk. Women love silk," she advised.

"I'll have to remember that," he said seductively. "Let me see it," he begged nicely for the reports he'd obtained and she'd quickly assumed possession of.

"What are you going to see that I didn't?"

"Something that's not there," he cautioned absently already tuning her out and focusing on the voids in the data, instead of the bland matter on the printed page.

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully.

She leaned close looking over his elbow and suspiciously asked, "What?"

"I really like that perfume," he teased. "Or maybe I just really like the woman wearing it," he winked at her casting a sidelong glance.

"I'm not wearing perfume," she warned pulling back from him.

"Like I said…maybe… I just really like the woman…" he repeated.

"Stop it," she interrupted dangerously close to laughter. She schooled her features and attempted to chastise him with a pointed stare. "You think flirting with me at this stage is really the way to go?"

He nudged his sunglasses down his nose and returned a smoldering stare of his own; "I think that flirting with you at any stage is something I enjoy." This time her blush was the proper kind and he let it be. "Now, go away," he elbowed her, "you had your turn."

She snorted a short laugh and walked away. She ordered a Coke from the vendor and thoughtfully pulled on the liquid while watching her partner absorb the data that was there and see what wasn't. It was what he excelled at – seeing things that weren't there, things other people missed. To Charlie absences spoke volumes.

"It says here that both their personal effects we sent to the same address," he commented stealing her Coke and taking a long pull from her straw. "What do you say we go see where that is?"

Dani donned her own shades and motioned for his keys with her outstretched hand.

"Why don't I drive?" he pushed.

Dani's hands were squarely planted on her hips and though he could not see her eyes he knew displeasure colored them dark rich colors.

"Okay, you drive," he acquiesced. Her smile was worth it.

* * *

The address was an office building. They sat in the car and rechecked the address before climbing from the car to inquire. The big board in the lobby had a list of companies in the building, but one particular company attracted their attention – Puryer Investigations.

"Now that's something," Charlie muttered.

"Crews," Dani prompted him to explain.

"Let's go," he said under his breath as he shepherded her out of the lobby. "There are probably cameras in here."

Once outside she shook off his arm and stepped away, "I'm not your granny you know? All you need to do is ask," his physicality chaffed her. It was something he made note of, but didn't apologize for.

He began explaining as they walked to the car while she cooled off. "Puryer Investigations provided the security and protection for Mickey Rayborn. The woman that came to see me when we were working the roofing murder case; that was Amanda Puryer."

Reese's eyes narrowed as she started the engine to cool the car off and turned in her seat to face him.

"You remember?"

"Yes, small woman, tiny waist, great dress and shoes; and she smoked in the office," she replied tersely.

He shot her an odd look deciding not to comment on the difference between the things women noticed and the things men did. Had he been asked to describe her Charlie would have used 'petite woman, great legs, low cut dress, impressive cleavage.' He decided to keep those thoughts to himself but was slow to continue. Dani shot him that patented annoyed look of hers.

"So…" he spoke his stream of consciousness, "she thought I killed Rayborn. That's why she was there that day. Turns out he tried to put one over on everyone – her included. She said her company owed his estate $15 Million if he really was dead. But I found Rayborn hiding out in a hospice working as a janitor."

"Why in the hell would you be looking for Rayborn?"

"To trade for him for you," he replied as if it were a simple matter of fact, "Roman wanted Rayborn in exchange for you so I found him."

"When no one else could…" she correctly concluded with wonder and awe sneaking into her voice and her eyes softening.

"I was more desperate than they were," he explained bashfully.

"More desperate than $15 million dollars?"

"Yeah," he softly admitted, "well, you can't put a price tag on what you mean to me."

He seemed to try and sell his admission with his eyes and waited for her reaction.

"I know that, Crews. I know that," she confessed. Her level gaze held conveyed both thanks and awe – the same beautiful mixed expression that graced her features the day he beheld her through a hazy windshield and knew he loved her.

"Now that's something," she added quietly almost as though she was talking to herself like he did. Charlie's smile was quiet and soft, but felt deep in his heart. She knew he loved her and she had all along.


	8. Chapter 8 Red Hot Anger & Cool Blue Zen

**Anger & Pain**

"So….where to?" Charlie asked as he blew out a breath from his tight chest. He both knew and feared what she was going to say. She did not disappoint.

"Home…my home," she replied clarifying where she meant. "I need clean clothes and we haven't been apart more than a few hours for what four or five days now? We should take a break."

Charlie didn't want a break; he didn't need a break. His heart ached knowing she would not be with him tonight. He slept better with her cradled in his arms matching breaths until they dropped off to sleep. She belonged with him, but she obviously still doubted that. He drove without comment and the silence felt deafening to him as they pulled to the curb outside her place.

She cracked the door, stopped and then turned to him and said, "its not like we're not going to see each other you know?" He nodded but his melancholy was palpable. She sighed and leaned across to kiss him. "Charlie," she breathed across his pursed lips, "you won't even have time to miss me."

"What if I miss you the moment you saying you're going?"

"That's not possible," she grinned. "I'm not that charming."

"I love you anyway," he countered.

"One of many reasons I continue to believe you are mental, Crews," she joked. He distanced himself in degrees. She could feel him leave the moment though they were inches away. "Hey, Crews? You here?" The familiar refrain caused his eyes to flicker and then they dulled again.

"I'll be around," he said idly. His mind and heart were somewhere else. The visit to the office building had shaken him. No matter how much he insisted they were partners, there was still a part of Charlie Crews that remained imprisoned and it was there that she could not reach him even with her tender good-bye kiss.

* * *

"Detective Crews," came the clipped British accent over the phone line. "Why stop by and not stop up?" Amanda Puryer asked as she studiously examined her nails. "Do come by tomorrow so that we may talk."

"About what?"

"About why you were in my lobby, Detective and why you didn't come up." She seemed bother annoyed and insulted simultaneously reminding him of Dani.

"You do know I'm not a Detective anymore?" he ventured.

"Officially you still are. And it suits you. I think I shall call you Detective even after you leave the Police," she supremely stated with the arrogance of a cat. "And bring your fiancée with you. I'd like to meet any woman a man like you is willing to go that far for," she teased.

"She's not my fiancée," Crews gritted out through clenched teeth. That woman had a way of rubbing him wrong - like nails on a chalkboard.

"Not yet, but then you've bought the ring haven't you?" she "tsked, tsked" chiding him audibly like he was some errant schoolboy. "I suspect you carry it around in your pocket. Still working up the courage? I find it stunning that you'd face down the Russian mob and be afraid of a tiny brunette, don't you?"

Charlie counted to ten as his temper flared. The blue box in his pocket weighed a ton and felt massive. The silence on the phone line stretched. She knew so much about him without even trying and it chaffed him. He thought only Dani had a severe penchant for personal privacy, but he was fast discovering it was yet another trait they shared.

"Detective?"

"We'll be there in the morning – at 7AM, sharp," he pronounced with snap in his voice and strain in his neck muscles. He was really learning to hate that woman, but they needed her help so he kept his beast in check. Someday he was going to tell her exactly what he thought of her and people like her – but not today.

* * *

He was laying in bed feeling lonely and alone when he heard the door open. An empty house echoes like an empty heart. His heart should be full, but he was still resisting. He heard the footfalls on the stairs, but was still surprised when his door swung open and her silhouette filled the sliver of light.

'Thought we needed a break," he remarked still detached from his emotion. Two hours of meditation made him bulletproof and invisible.

"I got…I thought… you know what I'll just go," she said turning to leave.

"Don't," he held her on the thin string of his reedy voice. He sounded strange even to himself. "I don't feel like I seem or like I sound."

"I don't even know what that means," she said still twisting in the fell wind.

He rose and walked to her. "I feel empty when you're not here," he explained taking her hand. "Please stay," he implored. "I won't even touch you. I just need to hear you breath, feel your heat."

"I thought you wanted a helluva lot more than that," she pulled away angry.

He stepped in front of her and blocked her path, "I do, I'm just figuring out how to do this."

She pushed against his chest in a feeble attempt to leave. Her effort was as ineffectual as a fly trying to move a plate of glass. He looked down at her and her anger colored his vision. He saw it as brilliant reds, crimsons and a riot of other hues. It battered against his cool blue Zen shield. He was actively repelling her and he didn't even know why.

"I want not to hurt anymore. I'm in love with you, but you scare the hell out of me," he blurted out.

She ceased struggling. "I scare you? That's ridiculous," she asserted sternly. "You ripped out a Russian mobster's throat; you scaled a fence to confront a man with automatic weapons; you have no fear."

"My fears are all inside. Russians don't scare me, Feds don't scare me, men with guns don't scare me, but a woman with my heart in her hands – you – do," he said rationally. "It may not make sense but there it is," he said in a quiet, but true voice.

"It's because of her isn't it?"

He didn't need to ask whom. They both knew. Ghosts of Jennifer fluttered through his mind. "Yes," he admitted. "And you're nothing like her – nothing at all," he commented. She said nothing so after a pause he continued, "you're brave and brutal; you're tough and so very fragile; you're caustic and witty. Jen….she. She was beautiful and kind and polite and gentle and ..."

This seemed to make sense to his angry young partner because her head cocked to the side considering her chosen mate as he spoke before interrupting him, "I'm not her and I never will be. You should find that comforting because she nearly killed you. Your beautiful, gentle Jennifer – she nearly killed you."

Dani truly hated his ex, one part loyalty to him and a good helping of good old fashioned jealousy. This was not a discussion he wanted to have. "Is this like my near death experience not being a full death experience and how I should be happy about that?" his attempt at humor was incongruent with his affect.

"Don't pretend with me," she warned. "We're not past this yet. You're still back there in that place where you can't trust me," she explained just how fully she understood his torment. "You're weirding me out here, Crews," she confided. "You're supposed to be the strong one. I'm the screw up remember?"

He exhaled and twisted his neck. His entire body was taut. It felt like earthquake weather. "You know things, can tell things about me that I vowed no one would ever know again," he admitted in a low dangerous tone.

"And still you hide things from me," she said presciently. "Haven't you learned you can't? And that you don't have to?"

"It's instinct. I'm not sure I can ever stop hiding," he explained.

"Then I'll find you," she vowed.

"Why'd you come back?" he wondered changing the subject, tacking away in the wind.

"I missed you, moron." She slugged him in the shoulder. "And you're still hiding," she tenaciously pursued him.

"You're not going to let up are you?"

"Nope," she smarted back. "Just like you wouldn't leave me in that bar. I'm not leaving you in the dark with your fears."

"What are you afraid of Dani?"

She did not answer. Instead she took his hand and led him to his bed. She pushed him down on it and wordlessly began undressing. He watched mutely for moments before he found his hands helping. Simple assistance became deliberate brushes of his hand in areas that left goose bumps in their wake. She pulled his t-shirt over his head.

No words were spoken as she stepped between his legs and pulled him to her. She sunk her fingers deep into his short hair and turned his face up to hers. She slowly and deliberately kissed him deeply. It was not the frenzied pace she enjoyed, it was the gentle, meaningful inquiry that laid his soul bare. She buried her anger and pain there – the red-hot fire melting away the ice that held him away from her.

In the night he awoke to find them intertwined and combined. His Zen was gone, but then so was her anger. The room was bathed in muted shades of moonlight, purples, grays and otherworldly tones. This was them together. They balanced one another. Zen taught balance; maybe she was his Zen.


	9. Chapter 9 Give & Take

**Give & Take**

"Come on, get up," he shook her lightly.

"Crews," she complained, "it's barely light outside."

"Yeah, but I told Amanda Puryer we'd meet her at seven," he explained. She could smell the mint from his toothpaste on his breath. He'd been up awhile.

"Why on earth would you do that?" she grumbled.

"I wasn't sure you'd be going with me and I run at 5AM because it's cool and quiet then," he defended.

She growled at him from under the duvet. "Next time you make one of these early morning appointments – leave me out of it," she remarked dryly, but rising nonetheless.

"You know I don't do mornings, Crews," she dragged bedding as she walked to the bathroom.

"Thought you wanted to go," he countered.

"Not at the ass crack of dawn," she threw a pillow at him. "Get out. I'm showering – alone. Go find me coffee," she demanded.

"Yes, dear," he replied brightly ducking as she shied a shoe at him. "Coffee will be waiting for you when you're ready princess," he pulled the door as he left.

"I should go back to bed," she mumbled to herself.

"Don't go back to bed," he shouted on his way downstairs causing her the scowl and look around the room.

"There's no way he heard that," she muttered suspiciously. He knew her too well.

* * *

From the time they got out of the car, Charlie's sunny disposition seemed to hide in the clouds. Earlier that morning, he'd made her an exceptional espresso from a very expensive shiny contraption in the kitchen and then followed that with the frothy latte that current rested in her right hand. His smile then was easy and his mood relaxed, but she watched him tense as they walked to the shiny office building. Even behind his shades she could see his eyes narrow and the determined set of his jaw.

"Hold up," she arrested his movement with her hand on his arm.

He spun ready for anything, balanced on the balls of his feet. He was prepared for battle. He forced himself to ease and inclined his head in simple silent inquiry.

"What is it about this woman?" she asked curiously.

"I don't like her," he gritted out.

"That's a first," she laughed. "A woman who doesn't fall at your feet – for your money or your….charm," she substituted something palatable for what she was going to say at the last minute.

Charlie didn't miss her snide remark. His sidelong glance was cool, but intimated disgust.

"Wow," she remarked. "Now I really have to meet her."

"I may hate her," he grudgingly admitted. Sharing was not something he was good at. He talked a lot, but mostly about nothing of import, but for her - he tried. "I try not to hate, but with her it's hard. I don't even hate Jen – I don't know what it is…." he traversed his discomfort verbally.

"Did you ever meet someone you just disliked from the onset?"

She laughed and almost spilled her coffee, "yeah – you!"

He rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Tiger. I'll protect you."

"I'm just afraid you'll like her," he said dejectedly.

"Hey, she messes with you and I might actually enjoy hurting her," she promised. Something about the way she said it with gusto and ownership made him feel better.

"Did you just call me Tiger?"

"Absolutely not," she lied shamelessly without a moment's thought.

"I'm pretty sure you did," he argued.

"No, I did not," she bickered as their back and forth like seven year olds continued into the elevator. There she surprised him with a question. "Think she's got cameras in here too?" He nodded and looked up.

"Come're. I need to fix your tie," she directed. He stepped closed and she grabbed the delicate silk with both hands and pulled him down locking him in a searing kiss.

When she released him, she had to take his hands off her and put this back by his side. "Now she'll know that I'm not playing," she grinned.

Charlie worked hard to wipe the smirk off his face.

"Nothing says taken - like a woman's lipstick on your lips," she remarked absently when they entered the lobby of Puryer Investigations. Charlie checked himself in the glass and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. Dani just smiled knowingly and winked at him.

* * *

The office wasn't as ostentatious as he expected. Ted said "nice, spacious and clean," which Charlie interpreted as a dazzling display of wealth and opulence. It was in fact spacious, clean and had elegant lines without being showy. The woman was another matter.

Once again she was dressed to kill, in red patent leather four-inch heels, a vibrant matching red dress with jewelry to match. Her nails and hair were perfect. She wore a powerful shade of red lipstick and pursed her lips to ensure it covered her lips fully as they entered. She feigned surprise, "Why Detective Crews what a pleasure to see you again?"

Her false brightness chaffed him and he noticed Dani's eyes narrow. She was a hair's breath away from a smart-ass comment, but she stayed silent. Charlie shook the woman's outstretched hand and introduced his partner as "Detective Reese."

Dani politely shook the Amanda's hand and softened the setting providing her first name, "Dani is fine."

"Very well, Dani. I'm Amanda. I feel like I know you. As you no doubt know, I assisted Detective Crews with locating your lost cell phone and firearm in the recent unpleasantness."

"Uh, thanks. But Detective Crews didn't mention that," Dani offered.

Charlie crossed his arms nervously.

"Please sit down," Amanda offered hospitality. "Shall we have some tea?"

"In America we drink coffee and we brought our own," Dani parried and raised her coffee cup in mock salute.

"Yes, that takes some getting used to," Puryer thinly veiled her disgust under a mild pleasantry, "I forget having lived in Britain for so long."

Charlie had yet to speak. He pulled up a chair, trying to sit as suggested in a rather uncomfortable looking ultra modern chrome contraption that was more for appearance than function. He gave it up and stood awkwardly.

Dani noticed his discomfort and walked to his side, "actually we'd prefer to stand and we won't be here that long."

"What brings you to see me then?" Puryer asked morphing instantly into an all business tone.

"Two dead men who had their personal effects delivered here," Dani stated flatly.

"And their names?"

"Have you had more than two employees killed recently?" Charlie asked sharply.

The look Amanda shot his was pure venom. "No, Detective I'm quite certain we have not. I was merely inquiring if you knew their names."

"We do," he countered blue eyes glittering.

Dani whispered "easy" under her breath. He rolled his shoulders back to release tension, but his stance bespoke potential energy and a desire to do violence. She'd seen it in him before, usually before someone got hurt.

"There were two of our employees killed last year. This is a rather dangerous line of work as I'm sure you both know. Unfortunately they were shot dead in the street; the police never solved the crime," Puryer stated coolly.

"Mind telling us what they were working on when they were killed?" Dani ventured.

"Detective…" she began formally, then reframed her response softening it, "Dani – you can appreciate that we cater to a rather exclusive clientele and they value their privacy. Naturally if you have a warrant I'd be happy to disclose those records to you, but I think if you intended a search you'd have brought more people, no?"

"Yes," Dani's jaw was now tight. She knew Puryer was placating them and it rubbed her wrong, but their cards were played. She didn't have anything left to bluff with. They'd learned the men did work for her - on what she would not say. It could have been Charlie they were following or they were pursing Kyle Hollis independently and their paths just crossed. But the days when Dani Reese believed in coincidence were in the past. It was as Crews said – "everything was connected."

Neither of them was willing to disclose Crews had killed the men. Maybe Puryer knew – maybe she didn't, but she wasn't saying and that left them at an impasse. Dani turned to leave, but Charlie wasn't done.

"We feel bad about that. LAPD that is – about not solving that crime – so we're relooking everything. Now I'd hate to think their employers wasn't interested in finding these men's killer…" he let the comment hang in the air a moment and stared at the woman in red.

"Perhaps you could give us the men's address and next of kin...it appears to be missing from the file. We'd like to let their families know we've reopened this," Charlie lied without compunction or embarrassment. It was bold and Dani was impressed with his confident play.

Puryer seemed stunned. She didn't respond for a second and then recovered. "Of course, I'll collect that information for you. Wait here," she turned on her heel and left the room.

Dani looked quizzically at him, but said nothing. They had to assume everything they said or did was on tape. He shrugged, a gesture meant to convey he had a hunch he was playing and she should go with it. She nodded understanding or agreement he wasn't sure which, but he knew she had his back whatever he decided to do.

Puryer returned and handed a 3x5 index card to Dani obviously attempting to dupe Reese into believing she was more helpful and cooperative than he knew her to be She was careful to avoid giving it to Charlie steering well clear of his personal space. Everyone could feel Crews' hostility and volatility.

"Well, I believe that concludes our business Detectives. Please stop by again if I can assist you further," she smiled showing all her teeth. No handshakes were exchanged as the Detectives were summarily dismissed. Both held their tongues and breaths until they were well out of the building.

Dani was first to speak, "I hate her too."

Charlie felt better immediately.

"But you can't kill her yet," she added wryly, "We might need her later."

He grimaced in disgust and contended testily, "I don't kill everyone, you know?"

Dani ignored his assertion. While she'd shot a few people and was willing to do so when needed, they both knew Crews had amassed a rather enviable body count. Infantry platoons had less kills under their belt.

"Either she doesn't know you shot them or she doesn't want us to know she knows," she continued. "If she doesn't want us to know then why would she give us information we didn't have, so she must know something, but I'll be damned if I know what."

"At the risk of getting slapped," he offered, "You're sounding like me again."

"I know," she shot him and annoyed glance.

"There's something else," he admitted. "She knows I'm officially suspended."

"So she knows you lied about reopening the investigation," Dani finished his thought. "Yet she gave us info anyway…" she wondered aloud, "meaning?"

"Meaning – either she wants to help us but can't because those cameras aren't there just to watch the customers and clients…" he posited.

"Or?"

"She enjoys fucking with me," he said grimly.

"Hmm," Dani smiled and cocked her head to the side. "Well, really doesn't enjoy fucking with you Detective? Just so long as she keeps her hands to herself," she teased walking to stand in his shadow and lowered her voice to a distinctly bedroom timbre, "feel better now?"

"Uh-huh," he murmured as he bent to kiss her. He tried to envision a time before he was allowed to kiss Dani Reese in broad daylight in public, but was having a hard time remembering that far back. She so occupied him that his brain simply couldn't process the past or the future, just his now – just her.

* * *

"What are you thinking?"

"That I'm hungry," he twisted in his seat. "Do you see a Denny's or a Waffle House? I could go for waffles," he remarked absently.

"What do you have a tapeworm? I swear to God. You're always hungry," she grumbled, but he could tell she wasn't really angry. It was just for show. The old Dani was still there in spirit.

"It's 7:45. Too early to visit someone's house," he argued looking at the Patek Philippe watch on his left wrist. "We could go back to bed," he offered seductively, "not to sleep – but to… you know?" he waggled his eyebrows at her.

"I know," she laughed, "and as tempting as that is…once I'm up – I'm up. Let's do some work," she redirected him. "What do you think about what she said?" she continued steering him back to their target – finding her father. "How are these men connected to my father?"

Charlie considered it hard internally for a moment, then twisted his head and seemed to look at it from another angle, before pronouncing, "IHOP," and pointing, "They'll have waffles…or pancakes," he said happily.

"You have the attention span of a seven year old on sugar rush," she complained.

"You wanna know what I think? I think, I think better with pancakes," he countered.

"Fine," she turned the car sharply. "They better have good coffee," she glowered.


	10. Chapter 10 Lions & Tigers & Bears

**Lions & Tigers & Bears**

"OK, rules of the road," she grabbed his hand which was wandering up her thigh. "One – keep your hands off me while I'm driving. If I want your hands on me in the car, I'll climb over there and sit in your lap," she said sternly.

"Jen and I used to make out in the car," he pointed out a contrast.

She glared, "Two…Never compare me to your ex-wife again. You don't want to hate people. I have no problems with that concept."

"Just so long as it's not me you hate," he grinned knowing her lecture was at least partially theater. "And when do we get to the spot where you climb over here and sit in my lap, give me a heads up. I wanna be ready," his roguish smile was accompanied by a wink.

"That would be at the intersection of nowhere and never," she fired back dryly. "Now, find that card with the addresses on it," she demanded.

"I don't have it," he protested.

"I gave it to you," she growled.

"No," he said pointedly, "you didn't."

"Check your coat pocket," she ordered.

"How'd that get there? " he wondered aloud after checking and finding the card there.

"I told you I gave it to you," she sighed.

"Wait… was your tongue in my mouth when this gift was delivered?" he eyed her suspiciously. She smirked. "That's so not fair," he objected. "You know you could strip all my clothes off when you're kissing me and I wouldn't notice."

"Don't tempt me," she teased.

He gave her the address card and a kiss with it. "You said no hands," he defended when she glared at him, "and I did not touch you - with my hands."

* * *

They drove in peace to the houses of each man where they learned a prodigious amount of information they did not previously know. The men, Devlin Maybee and Kyle Broadmoor had military backgrounds in Special Operations and were accomplished soldiers prior to retiring and going into protection. Neither man's wife knew much about their work with Puryer, except that it paid well and their husbands kept strange hours.

Charlie did a fine job of acting contrite and apologetic that the Department had not sent anyone to the house sooner. He assured both women that he'd personally keep them briefed on the developments in the case. Dani was happy for his charm with women for that, but a bit troubled that he could lie so easily to the families of men he'd shot dead. She was saving that discussion for later though.

One woman mentioned had a file her husband left at home the day he died, which the Company never bothered to retrieve and asked innocently if the Detectives like to see it. They nodded in unison, trying not to appear too eager. Charlie took the file and then deliberately did not look at it.

"We'll examine this along with the other evidence we've developed to see if there are any connections," he promised.

They excused themselves and walked briskly to the car. He slapped her hand away and directed, "drive." She did as he ordered, but bristled at his directive.

He seemed to notice her ire obliquely as he kept one hand firmly pasted over the file against his leg. "I didn't want her to think it was important. That way we can dismiss it later if we need to," he explained.

"Slap me again and I'll shoot you," she warned darkly.

"Sorry," he apologized genuinely, "I was excited. You can pull over now."

"Here? Is here good? Or would you rather I pulled forward another ten feet, Mr. Bossy," she asked acerbically.

"Okay, I deserved that," he conceded.

Nothing could prepare them for what they'd find when they opened the file. Glossy 8x10 photos stared up at them. It was Jack Reese, Carl Ames and another man in a heated discussion. Jack was wagging his finger at Ames – just as Charlie had seen him do in the park when they were ostensibly arguing about football.

"That's not about football," he commented under his breath.

"What?"

"When I was surveilling your dad, I took pictures of him arguing with Ames. He said it was about football," he explained. "That day? In Davis' office? When your dad and I had words?"

"You mean right before he disappeared?" she said sounding mad although Charlie wasn't sure whom she was mad at. He watched her to see if it was him personally or general annoyance at the situation. "I thought you said you told me everything," she questioned skeptically.

"I can't possibly tell you everything," he stubbornly defended. "But I will tell you everything I remember - when it comes up, when I remember it," he bargained.

"I hate that I think you are keeping secrets, hiding things from me," she commented but the anger was gone from her tone. She sounded almost sad. "It's late, let's go home."

"Home as in?" he gently probed. If she was pissed he'd probably be sleeping alone, which meant not sleeping at all as she seemed to be essential to him achieving rest now.

"Home as in the place with that fabulous espresso machine," she mocked him. "Look, I'm not gonna dump you because we have a disagreement, Charlie. I just wish you didn't feel like you needed to hide things from me."

He didn't comment because there wasn't much he could say to defend himself or convince her she was wrong. He needed to show her and he'd need to think about how to do that.

* * *

He was awake with purpose. It was 3AM, but despite her resting in his arms he'd been unable to rest. He needed to demonstrate his trust to her and finally decided on the method to do so. Naturally, based on his poor impulse control it couldn't wait until morning.

"You really want me to stop hiding things from you?"

She nodded still waking. Sleep colored her eyes coal black as she yawned and stretched. She groaned at the hour. "What is it about you and the middle of the night? You're not one of those insomniacs are you? I need to sleep Charlie," a bit of a whine crept into her voice.

Charlie leapt from the bed with far more energy than one should be able to summon at the early hours of the morning and fished a blue box from his trouser pocket.

"Here," he thrust it at her, "how's this for honesty?"

She took the box but did not open it. She didn't need to. She knew what was in it.

She sat up and held the box as though it might bite her. "Is that what I think it is?"

"It's a great big rock," he said brightly.

She wriggled in discomfort, "Charlie," she did whine this time.

He lay back down, covering her hands with his, hiding the box amongst the folds. "I'm just saying it's out there. I'm not even asking…not yet. I just need you to know that I think about it all the time. Some day I might even do it…ask," he explained. "But not today," he wisely checked his enthusiasm.

"Marriage is your basic nightmare for me," she said as gently as she could, softening her no and letting him absorb that she didn't want happily-ever-after. She'd settled for great sex and no strings, but she'd take him.

"I know," he admitted. "You told me. Never dreamed about the dress, the shoes, the bridesmaids," he commented shyly.

"I'm serious, Crews," she implored. "We're not getting married – ever. Understand?"

He nodded and looked embarrassed.

"I'm in love with you, but this?" she gestured to them in bed. "This is the best I can do. If that's not enough…"

He put his fingers over her mouth, "it's great. It's plenty. I've just been searching for a way to convince you that I'm not hiding things from you, but I was. I was hiding this," he shook the box. "I want you to know that you're what I want," he looked down, "and I need you to know that I do trust you."

She waited quietly until he collected himself and lifted his eyes to hers. She looked at him hard, searching his eyes for something she couldn't put a finger on.

He patiently bore her scrutiny and knew when she was done from the way her features eased and her body relaxed. "Find what you were looking for?"

She chose not to answer his question. She did this a lot.

"Put this somewhere safe until we need it," she encouraged. Then something imperceptible in her changed and her sassiness returned. She boldly asked him, "I can't have you losing my someday can I?" His smile was in the megawatt range.

"You don't want to open it? To look at it?"

She rolled her eyes, "I'm a girl, Charlie. I never met a diamond I didn't like."

"I'll just put it away then…for later," he said softly.

"Yes," she replied and sank into the pillow. "Later, much, much later," her qualification was muffled as she turned her head into the pillow to return to sleep.

In retrospect she realized she should have been nervous or excited, but she wasn't. She left it open ended because that's how life is - a big unanswered question. They weren't getting married. She wasn't the marrying sort. She never wanted the 2.5 kids, car in the drive, house with a white picket fence and a dog. Okay, maybe the dog.

But Charlie? He was old fashioned – it was one of the things she both loved and loathed about him. He'd keep trying to domesticate her and she'd keep putting him off. Neither of them was going anywhere else for now and that was good enough for her.

He carefully placed the box in his top dresser drawer and returned to their bed; this time they both slept. She'd said no to an unasked question, for now. Deep down he confidence that someday he'd wear her down and if he didn't and things stayed just as they were – well, he could live with that too.

* * *

Later that night, Dani had a strange dream about the Wizard of Oz. She hadn't seen the movie in years, but remembered all the major characters well. Crews was dressed in silver suit of ice, which served as pseudo armor. He moved stiffly with a plastic smile permanently on his face. Tidwell's scruffy hair framed his face like a lion's mane and Ted wore an Armani suit with straw sticking out his sleeves. They were following a yellow brick road to find her father. She was wearing her hair in braids, but she was in running shorts and a white tank top. Amanda Puryer and a flock of flying monkeys were chasing them; Puryer wore ruby red shoes like she had the other morning in their meeting. Dani awoke with a start, but her Tin Man was there to shield her.

She squirmed, twisting in his arms to look at him. He was bathed in silvery moonlight. Despite his ice armor, he was warm. She shook off the dream and snuggled close to Charlie who wrapped his arms tightly around her. She remembered thinking there was "no place like home" and that was now here - and him. Now all they needed to worry about were the lions and tigers and bears.


	11. Chapter 11 His & Hers Leads

**His & Hers Leads**

She vaguely remembered Charlie slipping from the bed in the predawn hours.

He gathered his clothes and slipped quietly downstairs to dress. His uniform for running was an pair of thread bare sweats he'd found in a box of his old stuff, a heather grey t-shirt and sneakers. He worked up a sweat in the switchbacks of the canyon where he lived – alone in the early grey mornings with the odd housecat on the prowl and the coyotes hunting them. He didn't wear an MP3 player as was the fashion instead preferring the rhythmic pounding sound of his feet on the pavement. He didn't run fast, but he did run long.

Life wasn't a sprint, it was a marathon – the exercise reminded him. You didn't have to finish first; you just had to finish.

He returned home as dawn was breaking over the mountains and stood at his kitchen window watching the sunrise. He'd donned a dark green hoodie to stave off the chill from the A/C on his sweaty limbs. He ate a peach and drank orange juice straight from the carton before putting it back in the fridge. His wife would have never let him do that. She'd say it was gross. Dani wouldn't care because she'd never stoop to drinking orange juice he realized making him chuckle.

Maybe Dani was right, maybe this was okay for them, okay for now. No one held his leash and he liked it that way. They were both accustomed to their freedoms and enjoyed them, but he did like sleeping with her – and it wasn't just the sex.

He'd stopped sweating by the time he climbed back in bed with her. He gathered her gently to his chest and she came willingly. She sniffed him suspiciously, but didn't reject him because of his enthusiastic workout odor. Instead she sighed contentedly and returned to sleep. He did too.

* * *

She woke late in the day. It was nearly ten. Crew lay beside her in gym clothes and she knew he'd been up and out while she slept. He smelled musky and more masculine than she was used to, but still good. She yawned and stretched.

He smiled against her shoulder blade, "morning," his gravelly voice said.

"Hmm," she smiled. "I like it so much better when we sleep in," commenting happily as she sat up and looked out the window.

"I thought about waking you to run with me," he teased.

"Wake me in the middle of the night one more time and I'm sleeping at my house," she threatened.

"That's exactly what I thought," he stretched like a cat in the sun.

"I'll make coffee," he said rising. "Are you gonna shower?"

"You first," she insisted. "I'll make the coffee."

He sniffed his shirt. "Bad?"

"Not bad, just different," she smiled at him.

* * *

They were arguing over breakfast. He waved a piece of bacon at her, "but only one of us still has access to LAPD computer systems," he suggested.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking you should go by work… Maybe run our boys in the system? See if anything pops?"

"And you'll?"

"And I'll do some checking with other sources," he suggested. "People it's better you don't meet," he held her stare. "This is not a trust thing, this is a me protecting you from bad people thing." She accepted that and his rationale without argument.

"Meet back here for dinner?" she suggested.

"It's a date," he promised. "Have a good day at work sweetheart," he teased.

She rolled her eyes and took his car keys. Charlie looked at Ted's Ford Fusion in the garage and wondered about another car. Today this would have to do, but some places he went it might just get his ass beat. He shook his head and went anyway.

* * *

She beat him back to the house around 6PM. It was quiet, cool and dark inside. His door was unlocked as usual. _At least they'd never have to do that awkward exchanging keys thing _she considered. She had a sheaf of papers she'd collected from her research. Tidwell had been at a meeting at City Hall with the Mayor so no one questioned her presence at her desk or her use of the computer all day.

Crews was right. No one had turned off her access. She ran both men's names and they came back as holders of "concealed carry permits," which made sense considering the work they did. They both listed the same business address, which looked familiar, but wasn't Puryer Investigations.

On a hunch she ran a reverse directory look up and the readout shocked her. No wonder the address looked familiar; it was Ritual, Roman Nevikov's club on Reseda Boulevard. Then she went one step further and queried the system for all concealed carry permits for anyone who used Roman's club as a business address. She got three more hits. She was now committed and tuned out the rest of the world. She returned to the first system and ran those names for a criminal history and DMV photo. There was no history and no outstanding warrants. _Figures,_ she thought. Roman's goons couldn't get a legit carry permit, but these men were connected. She struck gold with the DMV records and printed color photos of all three from their DMV file. She'd become so engrossed in her research, she skipped lunch and lost track of time. She called Crews' cell but he didn't pick up. He'd told her he might be out of touch for awhile so she didn't worry.

About 4PM she left the station and went home to pick up some things and return to Crews. Her apartment looked more and more like a hotel room and Crews' house more and more like home she realized.

She had the files spread out over the marble island in his kitchen when she heard the front door open and him call out, "Honey I'm home." She rolled her eyes and continued to scratch out notes in blue pen on a yellow legal pad. She was linking and following, recalculating and reassessing and was so focused she didn't look up.

"I'm home and I brought Chinese," he said holding up a brown paper sack that already bore stains on the side. She glanced up and it was then that she noticed the black eye that was blossoming under his left eye socket.

"You've been fighting again, I see," she commented neutrally careful not to mother him.

"And here I thought you'd go all maternal and baby me," he teased.

"Fat fucking chance of that," she commented. "What'd you get?"

"You mean food or info?"

"Both," she shot back.

"Get me a beer and an ice pack and I'll tell you," he said cheerily as he gingerly hoisted the bag onto the countertop.

"Just how bad did you get hurt?"

"Not bad, just alittle," he answered easing out of his jacket. "Nothing a beer, a back rub and a couple hours in the whirlpool won't fix."

"You have a whirlpool?"

"Yeah, girls don't just love me for my money," he joked.

"That's too bad," she joked as she passed him the longneck Corona bottle. "Guess you won't be up for some extracurricular activities tonight," she taunted.

He straightened immediately, "I'm fine really. I'm good."

"Okay, tough guy," she trailed a hand across his shoulders. "First dinner, then the whirlpool and then maybe I can help you work those kinks out," she demurred.

"Definitely not mothering," he commented as he drew her around front of him and kissed her. It was a long, slow, deep, wet kiss, which ended when her stomach growled loudly.

"Shhh," he held a hand over her belly and they both sniggered softly.

"What'd you bring?"

"Your favorite – Lemon Chicken and some Beef & Broccoli for me. You can have some – if you are nice," he smiled at her look. "Egg rolls and fortune cookies," he continued, "and for desert….Ben and Jerry's," he grinned broadly.

"You're hired," she laughed. "You can pick up dinner from here on out."

"Get some plates," he motioned to the cabinets. They were soon engrossed in munching on the take out and sharing nuggets of information they'd discovered during their day away from one another.

"So, who gave you the shiner?

"That's not what it looks like," he admitted testing the edges of the area with his fingers. "I was playing a pick up basketball game with some guys and got a elbow to the eye."

"I'm slaving away at the station and you're playing basketball?" she teased taking a pull off the green pear shaped Perrier bottle he knew had come from the fridge. Ted bought them and Charlie complained that tap water was fine, Ted informed him that ladies like Perrier. Turned out Ted was right.

"Inside I did time with Special Forces soldier who killed a guy in a bar fight after her got back from Afghanistan," Charlie explained. "He got 5 to 7 for Vol Man, but he got out early – good behavior. He never belonged in there. The guy jumped him from behind and instinct took over. Lucky for me he got locked up because he taught me a few useful things about defending myself and we've stayed in touch."

Dani seemed impressed and remained silent and attentive as he told the man's story.

"He's still tight with his Special Ops buddies and I thought one of them might know our guys – it's a small community."

"Did he know them?"

Charlie gulped his beer and shook his head, "not him, but he's checking with some people he knows." He winced as the beer went down hard.

"Next time," she laughed, "finish drinking first." They were having fun, sitting half on the couch, half on the floor, working and playing. She showed him the photos and explained how she got them. It was his turn to be impressed.

"Can I run these by my guy tomorrow?" he rose to take his plate in the kitchen. She nodded and joined him. He was stiff. "I'm getting old," he complained. "Too old to play ball with 28 year old kids," he twisted to crack his back.

She stood staring at him with an odd look on her face, "how old am I Charlie?"

He shrugged, "I dunno."

"Guess," she demanded.

"Uh…twenty…" then something on her face and in her eyes gave him the answer, "eight?" She nodded.

"Am I a kid?"

"No," he shook his head bashfully, "definitely not. Full grown woman, all woman," he told her what he knew she wanted to hear.

"Thought so," she smiled in appreciation. "Now, show me this hot tub," she pressed his back and forced him out of the kitchen.

"What about the dishes?" he protested.

"You got money, buy new dishes," she shot back.

"It's technically a whirlpool, not a hot tub. I'm not sure what the difference is but the realtor said they were different and I never bothered to figure out why… or how," he animatedly continued about hot tubs and whirlpools until he pulled the cover off and found Dani topless – then he stopped talking.


	12. Chapter 12 Frustration & Release

**Frustration & Release**

The next day as Charlie returned to the streets to engage in other more novel ways of gaining information (and play more combat basketball) and Dani elected to stay home and enjoy the pool. It had been months; maybe years since she'd spent time just lounging by a pool and reading trashy beach novels. It turned out trashy novels were in short supply at Crews' house partially because of his minimalist outlook on life and partly because that wouldn't have been his taste even if he collected books.

The evening prior she'd received a lecture of the Zen nature of washing dishes by hand. Dani explained in clipped responses she was the least bit interested in attaining any Zen state that involved washing dishes by hand and adjourned to the bedroom. Charlie joined her a half hour later, but didn't seem bothered that she'd left the domestic duty to him. Maybe he really did get something out of it, but she didn't care to find out how.

Dani left her bikini top on and pulled a pair of shorts over her derriere and went down the hill to find a local store to buy some things. She wandered over the bookrack and found something suitable. She bought a six-pack of Corona, ostensibly for Charlie although her eyes did flicker to the bottles and wonder how good one would taste in the heat of the day. She paid the young girl behind the register and was not paying attention, when a man stepped out of the shadows and spoke to her.

"Detective Dani Reese?"

She wheeled; startled that he knew who she was and that she'd been so comfortable that she'd let her guard down. Her harsh whisper was an unavoidable expression of her apprehension, "who wants to know?"

"Relax," the man held both hands up, "I mean you no harm." His accent was Slavic, Eastern European, possibly Russian but he hadn't said enough for her to be sure. "I saw you once at Ritual. I used to work there, perhaps you remember?"

She nodded yes, but really wasn't sure.

"You are the partner of Charlie Crews, no?"

Again she nodded.

"I owe him much. He released me from my prison with Roman. I know Roman told you that your father was dead. It is not true. He lives," the man disclosed. "I owe this to you. Your father crossed Roman, but he was never able to find him."

"Crossed him how?" Dani asked now leaning forward all questions. "Where is he?"

"Nyet," the man spoke. "I can say no more, but for the man who has tiger's claw. We owe you this much - ask the Pope."

"I don't know…" she interjected.

"Your man will," the Russian said and he stepped into the alley and disappeared into a black SUV.

"My man….." she exhaled in relief, "…had better answer his god damned phone," she muttered as she climbed into Ted's car.

Charlie had taken the Maserati that day and she was left with this little purple box to drive – too lazy to retrieve her own navy blue Toyota hybrid from home. She loathed Ted's car, but Charlie insisted on having his since she was staying home. He teased that he'd have to buy another one for her, if for no other reason than to get to use his car again.

Naturally he didn't answer his cell phone. After ninety minutes of trying she gave up and returned to her original plan. She left her cell on the island in the kitchen and retreated to the pool. She resisted temptation and left the beer in the fridge and took another Perrier to the deck with her.

* * *

Late in the afternoon, Charlie checked messages and found four missed calls from Dani. _Would it kill you to leave a voicemail? _He complained to no one in particular. He loved her but she had some habits that infuriated him. One of them was that she refused to leave messages. He dutifully called back and sighed in exasperation as her phone rang through to her terse voice mail. He left a message and tried not to sound mad.

"Hey, it's me. Sorry I've been out of touch. I've got one more stop to make. Call me when you get this." He waited half a second before adding, "I love you," a bit awkwardly. He snapped the phone shut and endied the call.

She hadn't phoned back by the time he finished up with some hard cases down in the barrio around sundown. He called again and was again greeted by her forlorn detached voicemail greeting. He hung up without leaving another message and concentrated on the drive home.

He loved driving at this time of night. The streetlights came on, but the sun wasn't yet gone. Everything seemed brighter, but the shadows hid all the ugliness. He drove into the hills that held his home while the last rays of sunlight were still bathing the canyon walls in delicate pinks and orange shades. He entered a still, quiet and empty house - his solace and sanctum where he breathed a deep cleansing breath. After a short walk through of the downstairs he noticed the pool lights were on and light bounced from the undulating water flickering through the kitchen. He smiled and went outside to join Dani thinking the young brunette in a swimsuit would be a nice way to end his long day.

"Hey," he said softly as she broke the water in the blue green light.

"Come in," she beckoned with water dripping from her chin and rivulets of water in her hair and eyes. He began taking off his clothes with his shoes and socks first. He stripped down to his jeans and then cast a questioning look at her.

She grinned, "There's nothing under those jeans I haven't seen before."

"I was thinking about the neighbors," he smiled back. "Maybe I'll just grab some trunks. Hold on, I'll be right back."

"Chicken," she taunted and slung her bikini top up on the deck and arched an eyebrow at him in challenge.

"Okay," he responded walking to the shallows. "If that's how you want to be," he stripped off his jeans. She was waiting for boxers or briefs, but Charlie was going commando and that surprised her.

"Get in this pool," she hissed. "It's only 7PM, there could be little kids out there." She started to laugh blowing bubbles in the water as he waded into the shallow water.

His smile was broad and true. He had to admit it felt good to wade into the cool pool after the heat of the day. Wading into her would feel even better. "Come're," he beckoned. "I wanna touch you," he murmured across her collarbone as she stood under him. He loved the view his height advantage provided. "I missed you," he said simply and honestly as he dipped to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

_This was far better than making out in his car _he thought as he pressed her against the wall of the pool. Things became frantic and heated quickly as he lit her body with fires that burned under the cool water. They tried to make it out of the pool, but got only as far as the underwater steps in the shallows before he covered her body with his and pulled her tightly against him.

They rocked in rhythm awkwardly before he reversed things and sat back against the top step and pulled her across him. She straddled him and he got better leverage thrusting hard and fast against her as she egged him on with naughty things whispered in his ear. She dug her nails into his back and he redoubled his efforts. This was what she liked, hard, fast and heated. She bit into his shoulder to keep from crying out.

"Ow," he yelped.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," she groaned and then growled into his ear. "I'm trying so hard not to scream," she panted breathlessly. "The neighbors will call the cops," she told him.

"Honey, scream all you want. We are the cops," he grinned gripping her tightly and drove hard to a fast finish. She shuddered against him before his own orgasm ripped through him.

They lay panting in the shallows for a few moments of bliss before their eyes reopened and they exchanged looks. Then they simultaneously broke into raucous laughter that joined the calls of the coyote as the moon rose.

* * *

They luxuriated in the warm water talking in low tones, sharing what they'd learned during the day. Charlie traipsed into the kitchen to get a beer and a cold Perrier for Dani. She eyed his beer, but left that alone. She didn't need liquor to be with Crews. She called out for him to bring towels, which he dutifully fetched from the bath for later.

Dani shared the meeting with the unknown Russian and his reference to the Pope. Charlie confirmed this was a name known to him from Crescent City and assured her he'd check into it. She accepted the partial information and didn't press him for more. They were figuring each other out, leaving room and space in their relationship. This bespoke their trust in each other and underlying knowledge that no one could or should share everything.

He'd left the DMV photos with the Special Forces soldiers and avoided further injury in a second pick up basketball game that was the price of admission to any conversation with the close knit clan of warriors. He declared himself lucky it wasn't football season yet or she'd have had to come get him from the soldier's "two hand rough touch football" games. She gathered the impression that they, like Crews, had seen and experienced things most people only view through the prism of a movie or television screen. He talked about them with respect and admiration, even the one who'd done time with him.

She realized there was still honor and there were honorable men, even in prison. It was something she'd never considered before. That Charlie looked out for Ted she knew, but she always thought he was alone in that regard – now she knew he was not. She recognized that she didn't know or understand the circles Crews was spiraling through and conceded she couldn't contribute much to what he was doing in those circles. She wasn't useless, but she wasn't useful either. It was something new for her.

* * *

The following morning he stood examining himself in the mirror before shaving. He sighed heavily, holding the razor in his right hand. He was sore all over. He needed a haircut. His leg was scraped from some forgotten contact with the wall of the pool last night – more evidence of their amorous intent. He sported a rather impressive looking black eye, several bluish blue hickeys on his neck and a deep purple bite mark on his shoulder. _This woman was going to kill him – but what a way to die._

She stood watching, "You look like an Irish street fighter," she commented smirking.

He turned to look at her. She was standing in the doorway, backlit by the sun, wearing nothing but his baby blue dress shirt. Her hair was mussed and her legs crossed. He sighed again, "and you look like a Hindu goddess."

She walked to stand under him and her dark eyes looked up at him through long lashes. He reached for her knowing they'd were going to get a late start again this morning. He'd never been so happy to be this late for anything in his life as she led him back to their bed.


	13. Chapter 13 Popes & Pawns

**Popes & Pawns**

"I don't see why I can't go," she argued. "I'm not a child."

"These are not people I think you should be around…or meet," he stood his ground.

"You sound like my father," she argued testily.

"Dani," he sighed, "be reasonable."

"Still - my father," she snapped and stormed out.

He heard the car start and knew he'd be using the Fusion today if he went anywhere. Unless….

"I'd like the number to the Maserati dealership in Beverly Hills," he told the 411 operator.

"Yes, the Auto Gallery. That's it," he smiled. "Please," he responded when asked if he'd like to be connected.

"This is Charlie Crews," he told the receptionist.

The name must have sparked a memory because he was immediately routed to a very efficient young woman who promised anything he wanted could be done – today. Charlie ordered up a new car, same model –_ Quattroporte. Did they have a red one?_ He inquired. _Sorry, but the closest to red was a bordeaux with a white interior, _the woman advised. He shook his head, no and then told her that wouldn't do. _Uh, how about a nice black convertible Gran Turismo with a grey leather interior? _ The woman asked. Charlie smiles. _That's the one_, he knows. The woman says it will be delivered by noon.

* * *

He called her cell. It went to voicemail. She's pissed at him and won't answer. He didn't leave a message the first time, but he called back around noon as he settled into the new car. The seat fit him like a glove. It smells of leather and rich wood tones appointed the dash. He lowers the roof and let's the bright LA sunshine on him. He is staring into the sun though his Persol shades when he leaves the message.

"I'm going to see the Pope. I know you don't understand why it has to be alone. You may never understand. You don't want me to protect you, but it's something I can't help. It's not about trust; it's because I love you and you are the thing I value most. I just need you to know that," he stated gently. "I love you Dani," he added and then hung up.

She ignored the phone as it buzzed, knowing it was him. It buzzed again a half hour later – him again, she knew. She let it go to voicemail, determined to hold onto her anger. She's still angry when it turns dark and she decides to sleep at her place for the night.

Twenty-four hours later she replays his message over and over looking for clues. People don't just vanish.


	14. Chapter 14 Icons & Religious Truths

**Icons & The True Nature of Things**

He wasn't allowed to know where they were going, which he pretty much expected. They took his gun, knife and phone, depositing them all in the trunk of his pretty new car. They even took his keys, but they promised he'd get those back. He took one last look at the sleek little convertible coupe and climbed into the SUV. The hood was slipped over his head and the long ride to nowhere began.

It's not a good feeling to be blindfolded when you're going to meet a mobster. As if the anticipation wasn't enough – they had to add doing it blind to the equation. It gave him time to think about where he was headed next.

The Pope was supposedly a Slav, maybe a Russian or Ukrainian, but most probably a Serbo-Croatian man of questionable religious faith. Charlie only knew him to worship money. He was rumored to have been a powerbroker in the Bosnian conflict and left Europe when the Dayton Peace Accords put him out of business. It was a strange nickname - the Pope.

The Pope was iconic in Crescent City – even though he wasn't actually in the prison; he ran everything in there. Charlie had never actually laid eyes on him, but he knew him instead by reputation. He was known to be brutal, merciless and ruled with an iron fist. No stole from him and no one crossed him – and lived to tell about it.

It was surprising to him when they yanked the hood off his head and he found himself in a neat room with a grey tabby cat. There was a brocade sofa and a couple of overstuffed chairs arranged around a wooden coffee table. The lighting was soft yellow provided by two standing lamps in the room's alternate corners. There was no natural light in the room because there were no windows. That plus the stairs he descended and the absence of outside sounds led Charlie to conclude he was in a basement.

"Wait here," the burly Russian or Ukrainian man said.

Charlie's examination of details continued. There were tiny plastic bottles of water on a sofa table and a bowl, also plastic filled with cashews. There was a complete lack of glass in the room. He couldn't find much beside the electrical cords that could be used as a weapon in a pinch. The room was well thought out as a meeting room or a prison. The cat looked up just before the door opened, it's keen ears knowing, sensing movement before the sound came.

The door opened at the top of the stairs and a single set of foot falls sounded on the stair. Charlie rose and waited as the legs came into view, then the waist and shirt. He expected a big man, perhaps rotund or portly. He expected a lot of affluence, tattoos and jewelry, but that's not what he saw. The man that emerged was average height, average weight, fit and dressed conservatively. What shocked Charlie most was that when his face emerged – Charlie knew him. It was Jack Reese.

He released a breath slowly, careful not to signal relief, but he did somewhat relax. Then he spoke to Dani's father, "so…they got you too?"

Reese did not react for a moment, and then he grinned. "No," Jack replied. His smile reached all the way to the man's eyes. "They – didn't 'get' me, Crews." His comment was both snide and condescending. "You wanted to see me? Here I am," he bragged.

"You're the Pope?" Charlie asked incredulously.

Jack laughed, "Hell, I thought you knew." He stared at Crews a long moment, then crossed to the sofa table, behind him and picked up a handful of nuts and a bottle of water. "Water?" he offered Charlie tossing the bottle at him.

Charlie shook his head no, but the plastic bottle bounced off his chest and fell to the floor. He was rendered speechless. Stunned was more like it. He felt like someone punched him in the gut. He sat down hard on the sofa and concentrated on breathing. This would kill Dani, he thought.

Jack took a seat in the overstuffed chair and within seconds the cat climbed from it's perch and wove in between his legs begging for attention. Reese absently dragged his fingers over the side of the chair and the cat gravitated to his hand. Charlie still hadn't spoken.

"For a guy who wanted to see me so bad – you sure don't have much to say," Reese commented humorously. He picked the cat up and put it in his lap. "Spare me the BS shock and dismay. We all know that anyone is capable of anything."

"Dani," Charlie stammered.

Reese sat forward immediately concerned. "Did something happen to my kid?"

Charlie shook his head no. "No, she's fine. It's just that she…"

"…is never to know about this," Reese warned darkly. "My family is the only good, decent thing in my life. I don't want them tainted by even the knowledge of what I do, who I really am. But you know – don't ya Crews? You and I are both people that those closest to us have no idea we are – really. Under that thousand dollar suit and clean shave, we both know you - son - are a stone cold killer," Jack seemed pleased or impressed at this.

"I'm not your son," Charlie managed anger through clenched teeth.

"No," Reese admitted, "but you are the closest person to my daughter and for that reason, only that reason you are here. Now say what you came to say," Reese ordered.

"You sent two men to kill me," Charlie proposed.

"I sent two men to kill Kyle Hollis. You got in the way," Reese countered. "Hollis was the last link in the chain that could tie me to misconduct in the Department. He had to go away."

"But he didn't go away," Charlie argued. "He's alive."

"In prison, where I control every aspect of his life," Reese bragged. "He'll never talk and if he does he won't live to testify."

"That's why he changed his story," Charlie repeated under his breath. "So…this is what you do now?" Charlie asked audibly.

"This what I've done for so long, I can no longer remember doing anything else," Reese said with a touch melancholy and reminding him of something Dani once said about the loss of her faith_. Could it be that on some level she knew this about him_, Charlie wondered.

"You thought when Roman took Dani – it was to get to you, didn't you? It wasn't – it was to get to me. Only when I told him I wasn't going to let him blackmail me did he go to you, Crews."

Charlie considered this and if it were possible. He had to admit it was.

"Think about it Crews," Jack snapped. "How long did he have her before he contacted you? It was over a week. He came at me and I told him to go fuck himself so he went to you," Reese explained to Charlie like he was a six year old.

Charlie had already accepted the possibility that as gut wrenching as the episode with Roman had been that he was not the intended target. It was a seminal moment in his life, the point at which he realized what and who was important to him – Dani Reese. The moment her father had let her go, Charlie had been there to catch her – even though neither of them knew it. It was - as it should be.

"She's safe," Charlie returned his focus to his reason for being here. "But she wants to find you," he explained.

"You can't allow that to happen," Jack counseled.

"I know that," Charlie replied tersely. "I didn't know that then, but I know that now," he sounded annoyed like Dani would have. "But you know Dani," he offered leaving the rest of the thought unspoken.

"Yes," Jack sighed. "My kid doesn't give up," he admitted.

"Any ideas?" Jack dangerously offered to conspire with his counterpart. "Look I know you care about her. You know what this will do to her. So help me out here. You won't be helping me – you'll be helping her. You wanna help her don't you Crews?"

"Yeah," he admitted softly, "I do." Charlie puzzled over their mutual dilemma. She was as tenacious as a bulldog and more intelligent than either of the two men in the room. Something she could sniff out would be a double-edged sword – it would both destroy her confidence in him and make her that much more determined to find her father. Both men sat quietly thinking about the mercurial five-foot tall woman.

"She's an awful lot of trouble – my daughter," Jack commented.

"Hmmm," Charlie didn't disagree. "Lying to her isn't an option," he posited.

"Oh, and why's that?" the caustic question reminded him of Dani's biting wit.

"Because she doesn't trust – and we're building something together that requires it. I won't lie to her," Charlie stated strongly.

"What exactly are you 'building' with my daughter, Crews?" Jack's face flushed.

"A life," Charlie replied.

"I suppose that was inevitable," Jack conceded. "Dani really can't resist the broken people in life. She's always had a weak spot for strays. That boy she got involved with undercover – he was like you too."

"In what way?" Charlie asked now curious about a time and experience Dani never spoke of.

"He had a good heart and a weakness for drugs. He dragged Dani someplace dark, but she loves the dark. She'll go right through the front door of hell for someone she loves – my daughter," Jack explained. "But then you know that don't you, Crews?" he added acidly.

"I do," Charlie confessed.

"I'm sure you do," Jack sounded both relieved and disgusted simultaneously. "So you gonna domesticate my daughter Crews? Marry her? Have kids?"

"We both know she's not that kind of girl," Charlie stated the obvious. "She'd never accept that. She's too…." He reached for the right word.

"Wild?" Jack provided.

"Free," Charlie corrected. "She shouldn't be broken or kept. She's perfect just as she is. I won't try to change that about her."

"If you ever do, she run far and fast from you son. Trust me," Jack counseled. He studied Crews for several moments while the tall, redhead thought. "I imagine you never envisioned a day where you'd help me with anything," he ventured.

Charlie's eyes met his and unbridled hate fired in them, "I'm not helping you," breaking the words off like dry snapping twigs, charred to cinder in advance of the heat of his anger. Then as he watched Crews gathered control and neutrality masked his anger, but it was still there – hiding in the shadows of his mind. It was always there now. "I'm here for her," Charlie said coolly, "not you – never for you."

"Sure you aren't here for yourself Crews?" Jack baited. "Aren't you always looking for some kind of answer?"

"I had my answer the minute you walked down those stairs," Charlie stated levelly.

"You sure about that?" He exchanged stares with the Detective. "Oh, you think I did that? Put you in prison? Well, I didn't. Yes, Hollis was my source. Yes, he killed those people, but not at my direction. And I did not make the decision to have you take the fall for those murders."

Charlie's head cocked to the side curious but fiercely skeptical.

Jack continued, "I wasn't running things back then. I was just being tested, trained and recruited. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I don't see where it's hurt you," he defended.

"Don't see where its hurt…" Charlie repeated incredulously. " I lost everything," he said and the pain bled through his voice.

"And now, looking back," Jack said sounding an awful lot like the snake offering that apple to Eve, "do you want what you used to have? Or what you have now? All that money…"

Charlie considered this a lot. The past was gone; the future uncertain, only the knife's edge of the present was hard and real. He didn't answer Reese's question with anything more than an arched brow. It wasn't the money that made his life real; it was the girl. It was Dani, but her father had a point. Had he not lost everything he might never have found her – his "one." They might never have found each other. _Did all the wrongs in your life, the things that didn't go the way you wished for and wanted, take you ultimately to where you needed to be? _

"Do it for her," Jack coached.

"I think we've established there's very little I won't do for her," Charlie said coolly.

"Yes, even what her father – I wouldn't," Jack admitted "To bargain with your life, to trade your life for another's – that's something rare," his tone gave away the fact that he was profoundly impressed.

"I love her," Charlie repeated. "It took that happening for me to know it, but it's real and I won't walk away from it – or her."

"Then help me find a way to make her stop looking for me," Reese implored.

"You have to tell her yourself," Charlie qualified. He was only willing to go so far.

Reese shook his head no and looked down. He continued petting the cat – it seemed to calm him. After a few moments, his agitation eased as he arrived at what he felt was a passable solution, a compromise. "Will you carry a letter to her for me?"

Charlie nodded. He'd do it, but he wouldn't like it. Jack Reese was more than mean, more than bad (as Dani long suspected); he was a coward. But if that was the price of getting through this and back to her; he'd do it.

"It'll take me a few hours... maybe more… to think about what to say," Reese relayed. "You can make yourself comfortable here while I think about this. I'll have my men bring you something to eat," he offered.

"And my phone," Crews demanded.

"No," Reese chuckled. "Can't take the risk you'd bring her to me. I didn't get to be where I am without being smart," he boasted.

"And sadistic and cruel and merciless," Charlie added color commentary.

"Guilty on all counts," Reese said proudly. "But not to my daughter Crews," he qualified. "I was hard on Dani for her own good. She was too nice, too kind, too trusting for this world. The world would have destroyed her. I had to toughen her up," he explained his twisted rationale.

"She hates you," Charlie countered.

"Does she?" Jack argued. "Then why's she looking for me?"

Crews had to admit he had a point. Underneath that scared little girl that Jack Reese terrorized into a tough young woman was the child who still loved her father. He'd seen glimpses of Dani's fragility in her interactions with children. The way she'd become unconscionably angry at Tidwell for sending Zack and Karen Sutter to Child Services; the innocence she showed on odd occasions; her toleration of him even when he annoyed her – they were all glimpses into the soul of a gentle, kind girl who'd been made tough. Like a dog taught to fight, conditioned to sublimate their true nature in order to survive.

In those moments he hated Jack Reese more than he had for sending him to prison. He vowed to spend the rest of his life undoing what Jack Reese had done to her.

"Because no matter how mean you were to her, no matter how much you tried to toughen her up or to break her, she's still there. That Dani is still in there and it's her that I love and her I'd walk through fire for," he vowed.

"I have to give you this," Reese spoke respectfully, "you're the only one besides her mother that still sees that in her. Maybe you two deserve each other," Jack softly asserted. "Only you could ever hope to understand what drives Dani to do the things she does," he walked to the door.

You cannot mask the true nature of a thing forever. You can hide it, but it leaks through, it has to. You can imprison a wild animal, feed it canned food, put it on display, even condition it to accept those things, but it remains wild. You need only turn your back on it to learn this. It must hunt. If you run, it must chase you. The animal kills not because it hates you, but because it has to. It's true nature demands this. People are like this too. You can pretend affect, concern or rage, but only those things that are real can last in a person. In time, Dani would burn through what Jack had done to her – she would return to her true nature, the one he sensed in her from the beginning.

Charlie raged for the better part of an hour, pacing the room like the caged beast he knew he was. This man had done things to his partner. Not things he'd go to jail for; he hadn't beaten her or molested her; but he'd forced her to hide her true nature. This is what drove Dani to self-loathing and punishment. He now understood her in ways he'd never imagined, but somehow felt instinctively. She needed him more than she knew and he needed to her. Because in loving her, in protecting what was innocent and gentle in her, he would save himself from his own more savage nature.

He was that same beast, she was that wild animal and they longed for freedom with a desire that burned through them firing their passion for life and for each other. He wanted her; to wrap his arms around her, to hold her close, to smell the shampoo in her hair and taste the hint of coffee on her lips. He ached for her.

Then he settled on the floor and pushed it all away – the anger, the need, the want. He meditated, reaching for that plane on which nothing existed and he tried to become that nothing – to divorce all this desires, longings and attachments. It took two days for Jack Reese to return, so he had plenty of time to practice.

But no matter how hard he tried one thing remained – one thing burned through the nothing – her. He considered the parallel between this and the time Roman took her. Then he strove to get her out of that place and back to him; now he could only think about getting out of this place and back to her.


	15. Chapter 15 Mindfulness & Being Awake

**Mindfulness & Being Awake**

"You sonofabitch," she muttered cursing under her breath. "If you're alive and you're here, I'm gonna kill you myself," she raged as she searched his house for signs of her partner, now lover. "Charlie," she sighed in exasperation at the empty house. "Where the hell are you?"

She looked at her phone again. If he hadn't returned the fourteen calls she'd made before, what made her think he'd start now? One more wouldn't hurt, she decided – but it just rang and rang. She tried to think of the last person she'd called fourteen times in one day while she waited, but she couldn't summon a single name. Charlie's cheery voice came on informing her that he was not around, but he'd call back.

_Bullshit!_ She thought and nearly threw the phone, but instead this time she took the unprecedented step of leaving a message. "Uh….it's me. You're starting to worry me and I hate that. Call me when you get this. No matter where you are, what time it is, how much trouble you're in…. just call me," she demanded. She sighed and hung up.

He'd know more from her heavy sigh than anything she said. He was like that; reading the nothing between her words, the nothing that meant something. She sat on the edge of their unmade bed and thought about how to find him. _ Questions rapid fired in her head. What if he was in trouble? What if he didn't want to be found? What would Crews do to find her?_ Her answer? _Anything possible; even the impossible_ – he'd proven that.

* * *

She began her search again. This time instead of looking for a six-foot redhead she looked for evidence of him. The floor contained his clothes from the night before in a heap; blue jeans, a brown long sleeved shirt, a white cotton undershirt, his crew socks and pair of sneakers. The shirt smelled of him – his sweat and the crisp aftershave she loved clung to his collar. His toothbrush was dry, not used today she concluded. He didn't come home last night.

Evidence in the downstairs was also sparse and unhelpful. The kitchen held a dirty coffee cup and the trash a banana peel and peach pit. There was a sheaf of papers in a folder with a Maserati logo on it on the island. She opened it and keys fell out. Another car. Crews warned her he was going to buy one if she kept taking his. He'd obviously done it. The contract read yesterday. She recognized Charlie's inelegant scrawl across the bottom of one page.

The car was a black 2011 Gran Turismo convertible. _Pretty _she thought, but then Charlie did love his cars. The sticker price was more than three years pay for her, but a pittance for him given his current wealth. But where was the fast little car? Obviously, he'd gotten pissed about her taking his and gotten himself a new one, which was no doubt with him but where?

Couldn't be too many of those cars in LA right? Her finger toyed with Tidwell's number on her phone. APB? _No – bad idea. Worse idea- involving Tidwell._ She wondered how many hours could she go before worry turned to panic and that turned to abject horror as her fears got the better of her. She walked to the fridge for a Perrier and the Coronas sat there mocking her. Almost without thought she pulled one out and popped the top with a bottle opener. She watched the bubbles climb from the golden liquid to escape the bottle. The light from the kitchen window made the amber liquid appear to glow. Her gaze flickered up and out the window to the pool where they'd made love two nights past.

She could hear him laughing with her as the coyotes howled in the distance. She could still taste the beer on his lips and feel the warmth of his hands on her hips as he held her close while his tongue traced a path along her collarbone. If she closed her eyes, she could feel him still. And she could feel herself failing to find him. Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes. She bit them back and poured the beer down the sink.

_You have to be stronger than that_, she told herself.

Stark, she thought. She dialed dispatch and had them put her through to Charlie's old partner's cell. Stark answered on the second ring and his amused tone came wafting through the phone like to her like a layer of thick smoke.

"Uh…Hullo?" he asked a second time.

"It's Dani Reese," she said hating the fact she'd called him. "I need your help."

"Sure thing Detective," Stark said cheerily. "I'll stop up," he promised.

"I'm not at work," she grumbled.

"Are you at a bar?" Stark asked in a hushed tone.

"No. I am not at a bar, "she hissed instantly annoyed. But she knew she deserved the question. She ignored her anger and plowed forward. "It's about Charlie. I can't find him."

"Since when?" Stark was sudden and completely all business like someone flipped a switch. Just when she was seriously convinced that he lacked the capacity for it; he became the professional policeman and good friend she needed him to be and the one Charlie said he was.

"I last talked to him yesterday morning," she explained.

"What do you need from me?"

"A BOLO for a new car," she explained, "but an off the radio, just brothers in blue, people we can trust kinda thing."

"Gotcha," Stark replied instantly understanding.

The word would go out to other uniforms that could be trusted, not on the radio to the masses, but Stark knew enough people to cover the city. She gave him the car specs and listened to him whistle appreciatively.

"Boy that Charlie! He sure can pick'em," Stark commented obviously impressed with his buddy's taste, "cars and women." Stark's mind wandered as he seemed to forget whom he was talking to.

"Excuse me," Dani reminded him testily. She was Charlie's woman and Stark knew it.

"Uh…sorry, Detective," he stammered. "We'll find him. Sit by the phone," he rang off.

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," she commented wryly. Charlie's Maserati keys felt heavy in her hands, but she took the car anyway. It would get her to him faster, or that was the lie she told herself as the throaty, muscular, eight-cylinder growl rumbled through her. "Yeah," she repeated Stark absently, "he sure can pick'em."

* * *

She searched that night, until fatigue made it dangerous for her to drive. Her travels found her back at his door around 2AM, with his house still empty and quiet. Even with him gone, she felt better here – she felt as if he suddenly appeared again it would be here. She climbed the stairs alone and slept fitfully in Charlie's big bed. His absence weighed on her heavily, more than she thought possible considering the fact they'd just turned the corner and become a couple a week ago.

Around 4AM, she finally found her way to a restful sleep out of sheer exhaustion. The dreams came shortly before dawn. In them she was searching in a crowd. Every man was dressed in grey suit with short reddish hair. She began grabbing them by the shoulder and wheeling them to face her. None were the man she wanted. Then ahead out of reach she saw him turn and smile. She knew it was Charlie instantly, his blue eyes shone with mirth. She hurried towards him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall white hat like the clergy in the Vatican wore – The Pope, she knew it. His back was to her and he moved away from Crews at an angle becoming smaller and smaller. They were both traveling away at good speed. She had to make a choice quickly or risk losing both. She frantically looked back and forth, agonizing over pursuing what she wanted or what she wanted to know. Then she woke with a start. The dream was not hard to interpret.

She showered, dressed, checked in with Stark who informed her "it's a big city Detective," making her grit her teeth and thank him tersely nonetheless. She didn't know where the SF soldiers were, she didn't know any of Charlie's sources, she didn't know what to do next, when something occurred to her that she could do, but really didn't want to. But for him, she made the call she dreaded - to Amanda Puryer.

After the introductions and the polite niceties of 'how are you', which neither cared to really know, Dani got to her real point. "I need your help."

"With?" The British woman's clipped tone was cautious yet interested.

"Charlie said you tracked my phone when Roman had me," Dani opened.

"And you wish me to do the same for you now?"

"Yes," Dani agreed.

"Very well," Puryer said sounding confident she knew everything. "Who is it you are looking for Detective?"

"My partner," Dani told her. The silence on the other end let Dani know Puryer did not in fact know everything as she thought. Charlie, had he been there, would have chimed in with the fact that you can't know everything. She heard his voice in her head, but shook off her nostalgia for her partner and focused on finding him. "Can you do it?"

"Yes. Yes, of course," the shocked woman recovered quickly. "Stay on the phone, I'll give you the location and guide you in," she was suddenly helpful. "I do so hope nothing bad has befallen Detective Crews."

"If bad has befallen anyone," Dani tried on the woman's words, "it would be anyone dumb enough to mess with my partner."

"Indeed," Amanda agreed.

* * *

Based on the bad cell service in the mountains the best Puryer could do was ballpark an area. Dani thanked her and rang off. She then relayed the smaller search area to Stark – who called in few favors with LA County and by lunchtime, Stark checked in. _They'd found the car. What did she want to do?_

"Stay there I'm coming to you," she responded.

The car looked brand spanking new; it even smelled new. It was clean as a whistle. She sat where he had and imagined him sitting there. His cell phone chirped and she popped the trunk and stared at it. It was just sitting there next to his gun and his knife. She stared at them for a long while, thinking. She couldn't have known he'd agonized in much the same way over her at the marble island in his kitchen barely a month earlier.

The missed calls from her displayed on the screen of his cell and her single voicemail was indicated by a blinking red light on the phone. No one else called him. It was as if only she cared, but that couldn't be possible, could it?

"So, what'd you wanna do?" Stark interrupted, loudly chomping on his gum. She shot him an annoyed look, so he clarified, "Should we leave it here? Tow it? Sit on it?"

"Drive it," she retorted tossing him the keys.

Stark chuckled happily.

She glared, "aren't you even the least bit worried about him?"

"Nope," Stark continued to chew his gum. "Charlie Crews is as tough as they come. He survived twelve years in prison, 241 stitches, multiple broken bones. He's invulnerable and don't you think for a second he's not coming back." Stark's faith in Charlie's abilities remained untarnished. He simply refused to believe Crews could be harmed.

As much as his steadfast faith irked her, it reinforced her knowledge that Charlie himself was a weapon. He didn't need a gun or a knife – he was as the Russian said "the tiger's claw."

* * *

A pattern emerged, her sleeping alone in their bed tossing and turning for a brief few hours before she returned to the hunt fueled by caffeine and adrenaline. Each passing hour ratcheted her fear up to a previously unregistered level.

She was driving aimlessly, midway through the third day, surfing the radio stations on the dash when she accidentally hit the "tape" button and Charlie's Zen tape engaged. The speaker was benignly extolling the virtues of Zen and she almost ejected the tape and tossed it out the window but that it reminded her of him. She stopped fretting for a moment and listened.

"_You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken."_

Charlie was this for her. Her world may not have been sheltered or peaceful or delicate, but it was also not awake. the restlessness and the absence of pleasure the speaker described were familiar to her. She hid in hate and anger and drugs and drinking - from what? She no longer remembered. Only the hiding mattered until he came along. You couldn't hide from Charlie Crews. She had been hibernating in hell and he had saved her.

At first it drove her crazy that he saw right through her façade. She bullied him with harsh looks, comments, even the odd growl, but he always smiled because he seemed to know something she didn't. And it wasn't something about the world or even something about himself that he knew; it was something about her. It was something secret, something only he saw; only he got and she fought it and him for the longest time. She fought him until she couldn't resist him any longer.

He wasn't what people thought. He wasn't entirely Zen; a deep vein of anger ran through her partner - it was like a vein of gold that split the rock of a mountain. To her that impulse in him shined brightly. She recognized the control it took to hold it in check and she admired it. Also contrary to popular belief he wasn't a killer either. Yes, he had killed and he maintained the capacity for violence, but it was something he fought against and wrestled with – his own more savage nature. He was something altogether different and that she got that about him made her understand. She knew his secret and he knew hers. Far from embarrassing or frightening her, he was that warm, safe place she ached for and there was nothing she wouldn't do to get him back. But she was no closer to finding him than she had been on that first day.

She'd found an answer in the car, but it just led to more questions. Maybe Crews was right – there were no answers, only questions. _Had hers led them down that path that resulted in him vanishing? Did knowing where her father was merit this? Did what she wanted to know matter more than having him here?_

No, she realized. Charlie Crews was her answer. The only question she wanted the answer to was asked aloud to the thin air he'd simply vanished into, "Where the hell are you Charlie?"

_**Author's Note**__: The quote attributed to the Zen tape is in point of fact something written by Anais Nin, but it seemed like something a student of Zen would understand and appreciate on some level because it's about being awake. _


	16. Chapter 16 Pick Ups & Low Downs

**Pick Ups & Low Downs**

Other than meals brought in without comment on a scheduled regimen; there were no other visits. Attempts by Charlie to chat up the delivery thugs were all abysmal failures. It was possible they didn't speak English, but more likely they just weren't speaking to him.

After the first day, Charlie just asked them to bring him fruit; his request was honored. He discovered there was a small bathroom in a closet under the stairs. No amenities, just a toilet and a sink. Due to the lack of natural light it became difficult for him to tell day from night. When tired, he slept fitfully on the couch at first before determining it was far too short to accommodate his long frame. He moved the coffee table and slept on the floor the next night or when he estimated it was nighttime in his little cozy box.

Thirty-six hours in, he began to experience the feeling he was back in prison. A better decorated, more comfortable prison perhaps - but still a prison. The Buddha taught that the prison was in your mind, but even his mind felt it was in prison (again). The anxiety he felt surprised him. He strove to push it away with seated meditation, fruit, water and exercise. Two days in he realized calisthenics in his suit was making it rather rank, so he stopped.

But two and half days in - he found his center, the thing around which we could frame his thoughts and his prison faded away. It was her face. He summoned her image from memory, the way she scrunched her eyes up when she was about to bark at him, the openness of her face when her brows arched high in surprise, the sly smile that hid in the corner of her lips waiting for him to coax it into the light. He could spend hours watching the complex and varied facial expressions of his partner – in point of fact he had. It was why he was able to summon her so completely into his thoughts. Her smirk, the tightness as she narrowed her eyes in intense scrutiny, the glares she delivered silently demanding more of him. Dani's secret key to him was just that - she demanded of him.

After prison, everyone was so apologetic to him or they ingratiated themselves to benefit from his money. People fawned over him desiring no more from him than their share of $50 million settlement dollars. But Reese? She didn't give a damn. She didn't care about what happened before, what happened after – she just interacted with him now, solely on the basis of their need to work together (at first). She didn't care or ask about his money. She demanded he pull his weight, do his share of everything, she cut him no slack. He respected that. And after awhile, she respected him.

He didn't try to whine or buy his way out of his duties. He raced headlong into the breech often with little or no regard to his own safety. She ended up having to pull him up short to keep him from getting hurt. That was where their relationship really took off and its foundation was a mutual respect and grudging admiration that neither expected the other to let them down. He knew she wouldn't leave him hanging and she knew he'd come for her. The FBI and Roman showed them that – it was their unintended gift. And now Charlie knew that Jack Reese had played a role in that – in unknowingly accidentally cementing their trust. Trust that started at work and ended up at home.

When he tried he could think about things like the graceful curve of her neck, the fullness of her hip in his hand, the soft skin of her thigh, but the thing he could see without even trying was her face. He was so engrossed in meditation that he missed the door opening.

Jack Reese cleared his throat and directed him to, "get up." When Charlie blinked his eyes open, there were two big thick goons standing with Jack. Charlie unfolded his long limbs and climbed to his feet. He noticed Reese had clean pressed clothes and probably smelled better than he did.

"Here," Reese shoved an envelope at him. "Take this to her," he ordered.

Charlie took the envelope and put on his jacket. He tucked the envelope in the interior coat pocket, over his heart. He readied himself to leave, but had one nagging question. "I just gotta know. Why call yourself the Pope?"

Jack chuckled. "It's an interesting story. Actually I took it from something Dani used to ask me all the time when she was a teenager. As you know, my daughter is both stubborn and willful," he looked to Crews for acceptance of his assertion.

Charlie shook his head sideways, but agreed nonetheless, "Yeah, I've had some experience with her…determination."

"Polite word for stubborn as a mule," Jack argued smiling. He genuinely seemed to enjoy disciplining the spirited young woman.

Charlie's eyes flashed a brilliant blue with anger, but held it down, burying it deep within him. Reese did not deserve even that level of emotional investment from him. Charlie stilled his mind and listened calmly as her father continued the story.

"So Dani, she's a teenager and we're going to church a lot. Every time I lay down the law to her on anything…curfew, what she's gonna wear, who she's going out with, chores around the house, whatever – she fights me on it. Eighty pounds of surly attitude. Little hell cat, she challenges me… all four foot nothing of her with little chin stuck out, " Reese demonstrates laughing at the mental image of his daughter as he told the tale.

"So this is what she says to me," he grinned, "Who are you the Pope?"

Jack laughed, Charlie didn't, but he did follow up, "and the back story? The Balkans? The war crimes?"

"It's good isn't it? Solid, inspires fear and mystery. A Serbian war criminal turned mob boss makes for a great bad guy. They were killing each other left and right over there, burying people in mass graves, rape, pillage and plunder – old world style. And it's as far away from an Irish Catholic cop as I could get. It protects my family," he partially explained and mostly bragged on his own intelligence and planning of his alter ego.

It was all a charade, but the bigger the lie, the more people will believe it. Charlie shrugged and returned a steady gaze imparting he wasn't all that impressed.

"Hell, it fooled you," Jack shot back.

"Did it fool Amanda Puryer too?" Charlie played his strongest card trying to rattle Reese. He watched surprised flash across Dani's father's face, then anger. He'd struck a nerve.

"So what is it you think you know? Huh?" Reese baited. "You really wanna antagonizing me Crews? With what you now know about my reach, you really gonna just stand there and spit in my face?"

"I think you and Mickey Rayborn aren't partners anymore. I think you used to be, but you don't trust each other, so you both have insurance policies. His was Roman, yours was Puryer. She had her hooks in Rayborn, providing him with Security, but she was really working for you. She double-crossed you didn't she? She let him vanish and Roman thought you had him. And that's why he took Dani," Charlie pieced together a fair fact pattern.

Reese scoffed, but didn't confirm or deny any of what he'd said. He simply demanded, "you need to go," and dismissed Charlie who rose to leave, with Dani's father's letter tucked safely in his jacket. "You'd be wise to keep your theories to yourself Crews. I told you once before – you keep going down this road and you're gonna end up back in prison."

"…I know – or in the morgue," Charlie repeated the man's threat. "I remember. I will keep this theory to myself because I have no proof of it – yet." Charlie Crews was not to be trifled with. They exchanged dark stares until Reese broke eye contact.

"Oh," Jack smiled. "One more thing," his grin was predatory. "I'm afraid no one leaves a meeting with me without a little souvenir. You understand that I have a reputation to uphold. Wouldn't look very good if you were to leave here unscathed," Jack foretold the pain to come.

The two burly men stepped to Charlie's shoulders. "I'm not gonna lie," Jack smiled. "I'm gonna enjoy this," the men held Charlie's arms as the blows came.

The beating lasted ten good minutes. Blood flowed freely from a cut above his left eye and from his split bottom lip. He was pretty sure his nose was broken, but Charlie Crews had taken worse beatings and everyone knew it. Just as he thought Jack was finished, the man delivered a brutal knee to his groin. The blow dropped Crews to his knees and Reese kicked him a couple times for good measure.

Jack dismissed his thugs and bent to a prone Crews to whisper a message only meant for the red haired man, "that's for sleeping with my daughter Crews."

* * *

They took him back to where they'd left the car. It was an undeveloped cul-de-sac where tract homes should be, but the economy killed all the building in the area. It was in point of fact just an empty patch of concrete in an area not yet cleared of trees. The Russians started laughing when they rounded the corner. The cul-de-sac was empty.

"Looks like someone stole your car. You want we should call police," one burly man joked. Another of the men offered to drop him at a bus station. The Russians had a good raucous laugh at his dilemma.

Crews returned a dirty look that Dani would be proud of. "Just give me a phone," Charlie said tersely. "I'll get my own ride."

They left him a burner phone and let him out. He stood in the hot LA sun while the big black SUV became a spec on the horizon, down the hill below, before he dialed her number. His car hadn't been stolen. Dani had it. He knew it with the conviction of a penitent parishioner. She'd tracked him down like the bulldog he knew that she was and found the last place he'd been. He dialed her number, smiling but he stopped smiling when the crack in his split lip threatened to widen. That woman simply couldn't keep her hands off his cars.

"Reese," she tentatively answered as the unknown caller number flashed on her caller ID. The call began abruptly.

"Come get me," his tired voice coming to her through miles of empty air was instantly recognizable and filled her with relief.

"Crews," she breathed his name as she had on rare occasions before; the sound of it was a mixture of relief, love and awe. "Where are you?"

"Where I left my car?" he complained sounding hurt. "You took that one too didn't ya?"

"You left it abandoned…."

"Parked," he interrupted.

"… for two days, Crews," she objected.

"They really aren't all your cars," he complained.

She could tell he was about to hang up. "Don't…" she pled with just an edge of panic in her voice.

"Don't what?" his voice was soft and curious.

"Hang up," she answered, "I'm coming to you - just talk to me."

"What would I say?" he seemed dulled and slow.

"You talk all the time… about nothing, so just talk," she demanded a little angrily.

"Can I tell you a Zen story?" he teased.

"Just keep talking Charlie," she consented without actually saying yes.

"Um..." he cleared his throat. He could hear the Maserati's engine straining through the phone as she drove it faster than she should. "Slow down honey. I'm not going anywhere. I'm just gonna sit here on this curb and wait for you to come."

"And you're okay?"

"Define okay," he laughed but stopped because he had a splitting headache. "I'm okay-ish," he conceded. "My head hurts," he admitted.

"I know," she absently commented.

"How?" he wondered.

"How what?"

"How can you know that my head hurts?" he wondered.

"I can hear it in your voice," she scolded.

"Really?" he was skeptical. She didn't respond but he could hear her downshifting, then in the distance he could focus on the dark shape of the car hurtling through the switchbacks and turns as she hurried towards him. He leaned back and rested on his elbows staring into the sky.

"Okay, so a Zen story. There was once was this man who lost his way. He thought he'd lost everything – his job, his house, his car, his wife, but he learned in a very strange way that he had gained the most important thing on the planet. Do you wanna know what it was?"

He could almost see her nodding and he heard the car stop in front of him. "Guess?"

"I don't wanna guess… just tell me," her voice came to him in person as he heard the car door shut, but he resisted the impulse to look at her.

"You," he looked up and she was standing over him. "It was you."

"You look like hell," she commented taking him in. "…and you've been beaten again," she chastised. "Let's get you up," she tugged on one of his hands. He rose shakily and she braced him for balance. Then just as he thought she'd step away, she stepped into his shadow sliding her arms around his back and burying her face against his chest.

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear you missed me," he said lightly dropping kisses into her hair and holding her back.

"You just disappeared," she protested still hugging him.

"Hey, I left you a message and the car. What more do you want?" he joked.

"You, Charlie," she said solemnly and he knew she meant every word. "I want you," she repeated, "and I want you to promise that you'll never do that to me again."

"Worry you?" She nodded.

"You're sweet," he whispered, "but I won't tell anyone. It'll be our secret. I promise. I kinda missed you too. When I wasn't busy having my ass kicked, which as it turns out is harder work than you might imagine." She smiled at his attempt to keep things from turning serious as she helped him to the car.

"Yes, and when we get home and get you cleaned up and into bed – you can tell me all about it," she counseled, "but for now just be still." She kissed him gently on his battered face, but he didn't let her pull away until he tasted her lips again. He deepened the kiss and there was sadness there and regret for the pain she'd endure in the days to come, but it was coated with the sweetness of their reunion.

She lingered before tenderly kissing him again and telling him, "you're so damned much trouble Crews." There was a gentle tone to her scolding like her words wrapping warmth around him. She tried hard to be tough, to sound disaffected but they were past the point where she could pretend not to love him.

* * *

They were home. He was in the shower, washing off the blood, sweat and grime. She was on the phone calling off the dogs. It took a lot of energy to get the search for Crews off the ground; it took slightly more to get it turned off.

Puryer wanted an explanation Dani was reluctant to give. She didn't have one yet. _They really hadn't talked about it_. _She was just happy to have him back safe_, part of that was true. Puryer seemed miffed at the imposition, but in truth Puryer always seemed annoyed at something. Dani just shook it off and made the next call.

Stark was easier; he was content to know Charlie was safe. Three years of partnering with him must have taught Stark what a complete pain in the ass the six-foot redhead could be. Love made that pain worse. Stark laughed it off and let her off quickly with no request for an explanation making her thankful for small things.

When he hadn't reappeared after thirty minutes, she went looking for him. He was sprawled across their bed with the abandon of a six-year-old child. She sighed finally releasing the tightness that occupied her chest since the day he vanished. She pulled a soft baby blue blanket from the things she'd brought over from her apartment and lightly draped it over him. He woke the instant the softness touched him, but he didn't start.

His eyes blinked open and he apologized, "I fell asleep," stating the obvious while trying to rise.

"Shhh," she urged, pressing against his chest, forcing him back to bed. He was always surprised by her strength, because despite her size Dani was quite strong. Or maybe he considered, he was just that beat, that tired, that relaxed as he let her manhandle him. "Go back to sleep," she pulled the blanket up over his bare chest.

"It's so soft," he commented.

"The blanket? Yeah, I know," she admitted absently.

"No," he replied shaking his head and yawning. She gave him a confused look. "The way you looked at me just then," he explained. She looked shy and embarrassed.

"I like it," he said softly brushing hair back from her face.

She smiled and it was there again – the softness, the fragility that she no longer bothered to hide from him. This was his Dani, the one who was neither bowed nor broken – her true self – the one she showed only to him.

"Come to bed," he requested gently. She came willingly as he pulled the blanket aside to accommodate her presence. It was as if a missing piece fell into place the moment she laid her head on his shoulder. They both sighed in unison and fell asleep with contented smiles on their faces.


	17. Chapter 17 Seeing & Knowing

**Seeing & Knowing (Charlie's POV)**

"Aren't you going to open it?" he wondered as she gently set the envelope on the bedside stand. Some days she could still amaze him – this would prove to be one of them.

He was so tired the day she picked him up that he'd forgotten to give her the envelope containing Jack's letter. Part of him wondered if he'd consciously avoided it because at some level he knew it would be painful for her, but he really couldn't remember consciously deciding not to deliver the letter. He could only really recall the sensory overload of having her in his arms again.

Her name in her father's handwriting was scratched across the surface of the plain-faced envelope. She knew it instantly as his, her father's - he realized as he watched her examine the envelope. Her finger's traced her name lightly before she laid the envelope aside.

Thinking back Charlie all he could really recall from that day was the absence of questions. She'd never asked him – anything. Not where he'd been, not if he'd found her father, not if he met the Pope. She's simply shepherded him home, out of his clothes and into a hot shower. He'd fallen asleep and when she joined him the missing puzzle piece fell into place for both of them and they'd fallen into a deep dreamless sleep. It was as if, she like him did not want anything else in that moment with them in their tiny bubble of two.

Late the next morning, they woke, stretched, but neither showed any particular interest in leaving their bed. Until he remember the letter. He carefully extricated himself from her embrace and walked barefoot to the pile of clothes in the bathroom. Luckily, he had the forethought to hang his jacket on the valet, before unceremoniously shedding the rest of his clothes in a heap. He pulled the envelope from his jacket pocket, returned to the bed and handed it to her shyly.

"The man I met with gave me this for you. It's from your father," and technically he hadn't lied. She'd simply taken the envelope, examined it briefly and then laid it unopened on the nightstand.

"Aren't you going to open it?" She shook her head no and returned to a careful and patient examination of his body with her hands.

"I went to a lot of trouble to get that. Got my ass kicked, got held in a basement for three days…" he complained.

"Four," she interjected. "It was four days," she explained when he looked at her oddly. "Four days, seventeen hours and about twenty minutes – give or take," she qualified teasing him, "from the time you left that cryptic message on my phone."

"And you don't want to know what's in it?" he asked in disbelief.

"You... this…. those four days… taught me a valuable lesson," she said coyly.

"Yeah?" he was helpless when she played coy. She made him feel like a clumsy seventeen-year-old boy. She ran her short nails along his rib cage tickling him.

"I learned that all I really want to know is right here," her hand completed it's traverse of his torso and now held his chin. "I wanted to know where my father was because of what Roman said, not because I missed him." She looked deep into his eyes and smiled before continuing, "but you? You I missed – more than I thought possible. Even though you're a pain in my ass. Even though you have a problem with sharing….your cars," she teased.

Then she rose and kissed him very lightly on his injured mouth. It felt like the wings of butterflies touched him. He lost his way momentarily as she distracted him from his vow to get her answers. Her pink tongue darted out licking her lips and he watched her mouth for several second before he refocused.

"But…" he interjected when she withdrew to study him, "you're seriously not going to read it?"

She pulled on his arm and beckoned, "Come back to bed, Charlie."

"Can I read it?" he asked as his eyes flicked to the envelope on the table.

She arched her brows in either challenge or contempt. Neither was good.

"Didn't you have time to read it while you were waiting for me?" she inquired while her hand trailed down his arm creating gooseflesh in its wake. She was so on to him. He had read it and she knew it. Time to come clean because lying to her wasn't an option.

"Okay, okay," he confessed. "I did read it," he shook her off and tried to stay focused.

"So what's it say?" she asked still more focused on him than discussing her father.

"Uh…well, it's complicated," he sounded uncomfortable. "That's why you should read it," he sighed in exasperation. "The answers you're looking for are in there," he told her.

"No," she told him clearly. "They aren't."

He simply stared, amusing her. For a man with so many difficult things conquered, some of the simplest things still eluded him. He could push away anger, vengeance, even his powerful desire for revenge and yet, he couldn't suppress his own curiosity.

"My father was never the answer for me. I can chase answers forever. Answers that lead to more questions, paths that fork and then fork again. I can get lost looking for answers," she sounded much wiser in those moments. Wiser than he was in his constant quest for truths that he could never fully know.

"Or…." She continued. "I can accept not knowing. Be at peace with it. I can let him go, never know why he left and understand that no one can know everything. And that even if I know, I might never understand." In those moments she was a goddess replete with the wisdom of the ages. She dazzled him, entranced him with her dark brown eyes hiding under long lashes.

"You do realize that's Zen?" he teased. Her soft smile lit her face in ways he'd never seen but instantly wanted more of.

"Do you really wanna debate the finer aspects of Zen? Or do you wanna come back to bed?" She was stronger now, more self-assured but not the woman he'd met three years ago – things had changed – she had changed. She wasn't angry, she wasn't hiding, she was no longer looking for an easy release, for just fast and furious sex. She was looking for so much more from him.

He wondered if he could live up to her expectations, but realized he'd happily spend the rest of his life trying. Sure there'd be times when he'd pin her to a wall in the house, in a frantic fusing and they'd end up with bruises they couldn't explain, but not today. Today she was his partner, body and soul. Today she wanted him more than drugs, more than alcohol, more than answers. Today they were one – together.

He reached for her and the forgotten envelope slid from the table to the floor. It floated on the current riding the marble floor until it settled amongst the dust bunnies under the bed. It was a remnant of a past life; one that no longer mattered.

Much later he'd retrieve it and place it in the top drawer of his dresser with other unfinished things. The ring she'd never wear rested comfortably alongside the letter she'd never read. Letting go was the key. She was giving up her attachment and he had to let go of his too. She would never marry him. They'd never have kids. The difference lay between knowing and seeing – he understood that now.

Happiness lived in the space between, those expectations that we build ourselves and that society teaches us to strive for; and those simple pleasures that exist in our everyday. Those things we see but fail to know. Dani learned quickly, perhaps more quickly than him. She'd never accept that it was Zen she'd embraced, but she had unconsciously grasped the most basic tenant. She'd let go of an attachment that caused her suffering. The one attachment she held onto was him and that made him shut the drawer and put the ring and the letter in their past.

They moved on – but most importantly they moved together.

-TO BE CONTINUED-

_**Author's Note**__: I'm not done with the SF soldiers, The Pope or the connection between Roman and Amanda Puryer yet. Stay tuned, for while Dani closed one chapter, the rest of the book remains – and it's a mystery. Press that little review button and let me know where you think we should go next. _


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